


Star Wars Episode I: The Ways of the Force

by StarboardJedi5



Series: Star Wars Prequel Rewrite [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alderaan, Alternate Canon, Canon Rewrite, Clone Wars, Complete, Novel, Original Character(s), Prequel Rewrite, Tatooine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 17:00:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 63,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11490717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarboardJedi5/pseuds/StarboardJedi5
Summary: A complete re-imagining of Star Wars Episode I. As the Clone Wars rage, the paths of a Jedi Knight and a young man from Tatooine converge following a pivotal battle between the Republic and the Separatists. Their meeting takes them on a whirlwind adventure from the desolation and danger of the Outer Rim to the mountainous grandeur of an occupied Alderaan. With Darth Maul and his Separatist forces positioned to strike a devastating blow against the Republic, Anakin finds himself drawn into the galactic conflict and suddenly at odds with the people he cares about most.





	1. The Spoils of War

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: I do intend to write Episode II and Episode III to complete the trilogy. I have substantial outlines of these stories and I am currently writing Episode II: The Splintered Republic. Additionally, as time allows, I may write a series of short stories to provide background for the alternate canon presented here. 
> 
> I originally published this work on FanFiction.net beginning in January 2017.

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...

 

**_STAR WARS_ **

**_Episode I: The Ways of the Force_ **

It is a time of great conflict.

Separatist forces, dissatisfied

with the rule of the Republic,

wage a war of secession

across the star systems.   

 

At the edge of the Outer Rim,

the Republic fleet of clone soldiers,

captained by the Jedi Knights,

battles the Separatists

in an effort to restore peace.

 

But unknown to the Jedi,

A new power has risen

within the Separatist ranks,

one that seeks to destroy the

Republic and bring a new order

to the galaxy…

**The Spoils of War**

Flashes of red and green blaster bolts whizzed overhead as Obi-Wan Kenobi maneuvered his starfighter into attack position. The battle was nearly won; he could feel it. The fear of the Separatist fighters was palpable to him through the Force. After months of a bloody offensive they had finally pushed the enemy to the edge of Republic territory. If they won this battle, they could finally turn the tide of the war. “Rex, form up, that cruiser is nearly disabled,” Obi-Wan ordered over the comm.

“Yes, sir. Aero Squadron, attack positions, we’re taking the cruiser.” Rex’s voice came in through Obi-Wan’s headphones as the clone pilots fell into position. With the fighters lined up behind him, Obi-Wan put his ship into a sharp dive, heading for the main guns of the enemy cruiser.

“Split up. There are six artillery guns still in operation on that ship. Two fighters per cannon. Rex, you’re with me,” Obi-Wan instructed. In a seamless movement, the twelve fighter squadron divided into pairs for the attack, laser cannons blazing. One by one the enemy guns went up in a flurry of fire and sparks. With Rex in tow, Obi-Wan went after the final gun, blasting it into oblivion with a few well-placed shots.

Coming about, Obi-Wan brought his guns to bear on the bridge of the enemy ship and fired his torpedoes. It was a direct hit. Escape pods began to jettison from the Separatist cruiser as the ship turned at an odd angle and began to descend rapidly towards the desolate world below, unable to fight the planet’s gravity in its damaged state.

Cheers erupted from his squad over his headset. It wasn’t protocol, but Obi-Wan decided to let them have their moment of celebration. He couldn’t stop a small smile from tugging at the edge of his own lips. Finally, after three years of brutal war, this moment could prove to be the decisive blow. But then, something changed.

There was a disturbance in the Force. He felt it before he saw it. A darkness, a rage of a sort he had never felt before washed over him, emanating from some outside source, crushing the brief kernel of hope that he had allowed himself to hold onto a moment before. A second later, a new ship emerged out of hyperspace. It was enormous, a monstrosity of sleek black metal.

“Sir…what is that?” Rex asked over the comm. Obi-Wan had no answer for him, but he could sense that whatever dark presence he felt was coming from the newly arrived vessel. A deep sense of foreboding overwhelmed him. The remaining Separatist forces fled towards the new ship, rallying around it and reforming into attack groups.

“Shields up, this isn’t over yet,” Obi-Wan commanded, readying himself for the counter attack. But it didn’t come. The ship didn’t fire. No fighters emerged from its bays.

“What are they waiting for?” Rex asked, but no one had an answer. “Wait...sir, there’s something coming through, some sort of transmission…” Rex’s voice trailed off and was replaced by heavy static. Obi-Wan checked his comm, but his signal wasn’t going through. He tried to bring his squadron back online.

“Rex, do you copy? Does anyone copy? I think I’m being jammed.” No one responded. Pulling up beside Rex, Obi-Wan tried to make visual contact through the cockpit. He could see the clone commander and signaled that his comm was out, but Rex did not signal back. Instead, he brought his starfighter around and fixed his guns on Obi-Wan.

For a moment, Obi-Wan refused to believe what he was seeing, but as his ship rocked with laser blasts from Rex’s guns he quickly accepted this new reality. Pitching and rolling to avoid being shot down by his own man, Obi-Wan tried frantically to bring his comm back online.

“Rex, cease fire! Cease fire, this is General Kenobi! Aero Squadron, respond!” But only static came through his headset. Two other troopers from Aero Squadron flew above him and then looped around, joining Rex in the attack. Not far from him, Obi-Wan could see another Jedi pilot also trying to fight off his own troopers. Obi-Wan’s mind raced as he dodged another laser blast. _What was going on? How had this happened?_

In his peripheral vision, Obi-Wan saw the newly arrived ship begin to open fire on the larger cruisers, it’s powerful guns quickly doling out serious damage. Squadron after squadron of fighters emerged from it as well, pursuing the clones who were now pursuing the Jedi, taking advantage of the confusion.

One by one he felt the deaths of his fellow Jedi as they succumbed to the attack of their own troops. He juked left and spiraled up, coming in around one of his troopers. He squeezed off a few shots, disabling rather than destroying the fighter. Whatever had happened to them, he couldn’t bring himself to kill his own men.

His moment of mercy cost him. A blaster bolt from the trooper’s wingman struck the starboard wing of his fighter. Warning lights began to go off inside the cockpit. He was losing power on the starboard engine. Ob-Wan tried desperately to even out the power, but his ship was failing. The starfighter, bereft of half its power, began to spin in a crooked barrel roll.

Obi-Wan wrestled with the controls, trying to keep the ship upright. Around him was a scene of devastation, a sea of Republic ships adrift in space or blasted to pieces. The fleet was all but destroyed. His starfighter careened wildly, headed for a disabled cruiser below, and he was powerless to stop it. The last thing he saw was the fiery wreckage of the cruiser hurtling towards him. Then there was only darkness. 

*******

Through the viewport of his command ship Darth Maul surveyed the scene before him. The ruins of hundreds of Republic fighters and ships floated and burned in orbit around Geonosis. Space was littered with broken apart starfighters and the floating corpses of lost soldiers. Maul’s yellow eyes gleamed as he looked upon the destruction. His master would be most pleased.

He turned from the viewport and strode across the bridge back toward the briefing room. He could feel the fear of the crew as he walked past, and he reveled in it. Their terror of him only fed his power. He had united the ragtag Separatist factions into an army with a mixture of intimidation and brute force. Through fear-mongering he had built his great confederacy, and now he would finally end the Republic and bring order to the galaxy.

The briefing room doors hissed open and Maul strode in. The many chairs around the large table were empty, save for one, which was occupied by Colonel Tarkin, who held his chin in his hand, one long thin finger resting against a razor sharp cheekbone. Tarkin was Maul’s most trusted officer, far more ruthless and cunning than the other bleeding heart Separatist leaders, and one of the few humans among them.

As Maul entered the room, Tarkin stood and drew himself up to attention and saluted. Maul did not acknowledge the salute, but took a seat next to Tarkin and indicated for the colonel to return to his chair. He did not require archaic military gestures to know he commanded the respect of his troops. Tarkin returned to his seat. Though Tarkin remained stoic as ever, Maul detected the subtle excitement in each carefully pronounced syllable as he began his report.

“Sir, it appears the order transmission provided by your contact was authentic. Upon receiving the transmission of Order 66 all Republic clone troopers immediately opened fire on their Jedi leaders. The test was a success.”

“Can you confirm all the Jedi fighters were destroyed?” Maul asked. Tarkin frowned, his enthusiasm dimmed.

“No,” he said stiffly. Maul fixed his yellow eyes on the officer.  

“No?” he asked.

“There is one known Jedi officer unaccounted for. General Obi-Wan Kenobi. His fighter was confirmed hit and disabled, but it has not been located,” Tarkin explained, his tone betraying his annoyance. Maul felt his anger rising. How could they have let a Jedi slip through their net?

“It is probable that the fighter disintegrated,” Tarkin said.

Maul clenched his jaw. Military commanders lived and died by statistics and probabilities, but he could not. If one of the Jedi had survived, and if word got back to Coruscant that the Republic’s clones had betrayed their Jedi commanders, it could jeopardize everything.

“I want confirmation. Have the squadrons perform a sweep of the debris field and the surrounding system.”

“Sir, that is inefficient,” Tarkin said dismissively. Maul stared at him, his yellow eyes burning with anger. Tarkin continued, “I suggest we move the fleet out now, while the Republic remains unawares.” Maul contemplated the idea. It was a risk, but he sensed Tarkin’s confidence and Maul knew he was right. Time was their enemy now.

“And the Jedi?” Maul asked after a moment’s pause. Tarkin smiled, raising his already astonishingly high cheekbones still higher.

“We are on the borderlands of Hutt Space. If they find the Jedi, they will kill him. For insurance, I suggest placing a bounty on Kenobi’s head. Forty-thousand should be sufficient.” Maul contemplated Tarkin’s solution for a moment. He did not want to put his plans on hold for one missing Jedi.

“Set the bounty and prepare the fleet to move out,” he instructed Tarkin.

“Yes sir,” Tarkin replied, nodding in assent.

“Leave me. I must send a transmission. See to it that I am not disturbed,” Maul said, waving Tarkin away.

“Of course, my lord,” Tarkin said, standing and exiting the room. Maul was not pleased about the missing Jedi, but on the whole he would have good news to report to his master. One Jedi could not destroy everything they had worked for all these long years. He was sure of that.

*******

Tarkin straightened his perfectly pressed uniform as he made his way back to the bridge. The captain of the _Menace_ approached him, saluting as he came to attention before his commanding officer.

“Sir, we await your orders.”

“Prepare the fleet to return to Alderaan. And summon the intelligence officer, I have something for her.”

“Yes, sir, right away.” Tarkin moved to the viewport, observing coldly as the last remaining ships of the Republic signalled their surrender. The young intelligence officer approached him from the far side of the bridge.

“You requested to see me sir?” she asked, standing at attention before him.

“Yes, lieutenant.” He handed her the data pad he had programmed with the information regarding the Jedi’s bounty. “A bounty for a Jedi Knight, forty thousand,” he paused, thoughtful. “Fifty if he is brought in alive.”

“Alive?” The young officer could not contain her surprise. “Sir...the difficulty of taking a Jedi alive...surely that risk is unnecessary?” Tarkin knew he was taking a chance, the kind of chance that Maul would never sanction. But Maul was unimaginative, his fear of the Jedi absolute. Maul sought only to destroy, but Tarkin had grander ambitions.

No Separatist officer had taken a Jedi prisoner alive before. What secrets might General Kenobi know? The opportunity was too tantalizing to pass up. He knew Maul would never check to see that the bounty had been processed as he’d ordered. He was far too trusting.

“I assure you it is quite necessary. See that it is done,” he ordered.

“Yes sir,” the officer said, still looking uncertain.

“Dismissed, lieutenant.” The office gave quick salute and headed down the corridor. Tarkin watched her disappear around the corner, then turned back to the viewport. He had a surrender to oversee.

*******

Alone in the briefing room, Maul powered up the holoprojector at the center of the table and entered the appropriate code. A moment later the black hooded figure of his master flickered before him, Maul knelt, his horned head bowed.

“Rise, my apprentice,” the gravelly voice instructed. Maul stood, his hands clasped behind his back.

“My master, we have defeated the Republic forces in the Outer Rim. Their fleet here is all but destroyed.”

“And what of the other matter?”

“The Jedi were destroyed by their own forces,” Maul answered. He decided not to tell his master about Kenobi. The Jedi was dead, or soon would be. It was not worth troubling his master over.

“Good. The destruction of the Outer Rim fleet is a grave blow to our enemy.”

“Yes, master.”

“The time has come to strike at the very heart of the Republic. Gather your forces on Alderaan and prepare for invasion. I will ensure the remainder of the Republic fleet is engaged elsewhere. It is time to bring the war to Coruscant.”

“Yes, my master.”

“Destroy any remnant of the Outer Rim fleet. Show no mercy.”

“It shall be done, master,” Maul said, bowing his head in acquiescence.

“You have done well, Darth Maul. Have patience. The hour of our revenge is near.” The black cloaked figure flickered and disappeared as the transmission ended. Colonel Tarkin hailed him on the comm.

“Sir, the remainder of the Republic fleet has surrendered. What are your orders?” Maul looked out the viewport at the battered remains of his enemy’s ships and the vaguest hint of a smile played at the corners of his fearsome yellow eyes.

“Kill them,” he ordered. “Kill them all.”

*******

Anakin Skywalker peered out from the cockpit of the _Outlander_ , looking for something worth salvaging. The scene before him was grim. The ruins of hundreds of ships lay scattered, held in a precarious orbit around the rusty orb of Geonosis. Anakin swerved the beat-up old freighter skillfully out of the way as a large chunk of a Republic battle cruiser crossed in front of it. Next to him, Owen leaned back in the co-pilot’s seat, nervously clutching the armrests.

“This isn’t a debris field, it’s a graveyard,” Owen observed glumly as the lifeless, armored bodies of several clone troopers floated past the viewport.

“At least there won’t be anyone to stop our salvage operation,” Anakin pointed out. He wasn’t particularly concerned with the death and destruction all around him. This battle so close to his home on Tatooine had provided an opportunity and he wasn’t going to get squeamish about pushing a few severed limbs out of the way to get what he’d come for.

“When you suggested we come here I didn’t think it would involve separating out body parts from ship parts,” Owen said nervously as Anakin maneuvered through the debris field, keeping one eye on the scanners.

“Come on. Where’s your sense of adventure?

“I left it back on Tatooine.”

“Relax, there’s no one left around here to cause us any trouble. We need to find a powercell for the pod and this is the best place to look. You want to win the race tomorrow don’t you? You want your share of the prize money?”

“Just seems there should be a way that involves fewer severed limbs,” Owen grumbled.

“Well, there isn’t. At least not one we can afford. Is that tractor beam online yet?”

“Should be, if the power coupling holds.”

“Get ready to lock onto that cruiser, it looks like one of its power cells is still in one piece.” Anakin brought his targeting computer online, carefully maneuvering into a position to tractor the cruiser. But as he did so he could feel his attention being pulled elsewhere, as if someone were calling out to him ever so faintly. “Wait...” Anakin said as his gaze drifted almost against his will, past the cruiser to a mangled starfighter just beyond it, “there’s someone in that fighter.”

“Yeah, another corpse.”

“No,” he said, staring at the ship, “someone alive.”

“What? How do you know that?” Owen asked, frowning as he checked the computer. “The scanners aren’t picking anything up.”

“I just know,” Anakin replied, his gaze still intent on the starfighter. He tried to shake the feeling, he couldn’t afford to be distracted now. He needed this part for his podracer, he needed to win the Boonta Eve race. It was the only way to free himself from his pathetic existence as a lowly Outer Rim freight navigator. It had been his singular goal for more than a year. But the feeling wouldn’t subside and he couldn’t ignore it. There was someone still alive on that ship, he was certain of it.

“Open the hold, we’re bringing that ship in,” Anakin said.

“Are you crazy?” Owen spat incredulously as Anakin repositioned the _Outlander_ to tractor the starfighter. “Anakin, there’s no one out there!”

“If you’re right, then you have nothing to worry about.”

“What about the power cell? The race is in the morning, we won’t have time to find another one.”

“We can get it later,” Anakin said matter-of-factly as he brought the ship around.

“Even if there is someone onboard, what makes you think they’ll be friendly?” Owen asked nervously as Anakin powered up the tractor beam and the fighter began to slowly move towards the open cargo hold of the freighter.

“Maybe they won’t be.” Anakin smiled at Owen’s look of horror. “Better keep your blaster out of its holster,” he suggested, patting Owen on the shoulder as he left the cockpit, moving towards the hold at the rear of the ship.

He waited, blaster drawn. He heard the heavy metal clang signaling the closing of the cargo doors and a moment later the indicator light flashed green, telling him it was safe to enter the hold. The door hissed open, and Anakin entered cautiously as Owen hovered by the door, unwilling to follow.

The hold had filled with smoke from the wreckage, making it hard to see or breathe. Through the smoldering air around him Anakin could make out the twisted chunks that had once been the starfighter’s starboard wing and engine. He picked up a piece of wreckage to examine it more closely as Owen continued to watch from the doorway. He turned the piece of charred metal over in his hands. It was still warm. On the reverse side he saw a symbol, painted in a deep maroon. His heart began to beat fast as he recognized it.

“What is it?” Owen asked, having now taken a few steps into the hold. Anakin turned back to him.

“It’s a Jedi fighter.” He held up the piece of wreckage for Owen to see. The color immediately drained from his friend’s face.

“Anakin...I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Let’s just float this thing back into orbit and get out of here.”

“No,” Anakin said in a tone that left no room for argument, “not yet.” He slowly made his way around to where he could see the cockpit. Carbon scoring obscured most of the transparisteel panes, but he could just make out a sliver of a dark brown robe inside. Holstering his blaster, Anakin clambered up onto the nose of the fighter. The cockpit was melted shut. He called down to Owen, “Get that pry bar and hand it to me,” he said, reaching out his hand. Reluctantly, Owen retrieved the pry bar and handed it up to Anakin.

“What are you going to do?” Owen asked nervously.

“Get him out, if I can.”

“Anakin, think about this. If there is a Jedi Knight in that fighter, we should leave him there. Do you have any idea what the Hutts would do to you for harboring a Jedi?”

“I’m not concerned with the Hutts,” Anakin said as he wedged the pry bar into place and pushed down hard on it, trying to leverage the damaged cockpit open.

“We shouldn’t get involved,” Owen said as he watched Anakin struggle. Anakin turned back to him, glowering.

“What would you have me do? Push him out an airlock? Open the cargo hold and let his ship float away?” Owen looked down, his cheeks red, but didn’t say anything back. Anakin glared at him a moment longer, then went back to work on the pry bar, throwing his full weight against it. With a sharp hiss the cockpit cover sprang open, releasing a mixture of pent up oxygen and smoke.

Anakin coughed as the gaseous mixture swept over him. As it cleared away, he could more clearly make out the figure before him. The man was perhaps in his thirties, with light brown hair, mussed by recent activity but which looked like it was normally impeccably combed, matched with his well-trimmed beard. His plain Jedi robes were various shades of brown, with several notable burn marks on the outer layers. Anakin could see the faintest rise and fall of the man’s chest. There was a nasty gash across his forehead and a jagged piece of metal was lodged in the his right side.

Owen had approached the ship now and was leaning on the nose, standing on tiptoe to see, torn between curiosity and fear. Anakin shuffled back down the fighter’s nose and offered a hand to Owen. “Come on, get up here and we’ll get him out.” Shooting Anakin a look that clearly said he believed his friend to be mad, Owen nevertheless took his hand and climbed up.

“He’s in rough shape,” Owen observed as the two young men looked down at the wounded Jedi. “Is he even alive?”

“Yes, he’s breathing.” Anakin bent down, placing his hand on the Jedi’s chest just to be sure. His eyes had not deceived him, he could feel the shallow movement of breath beneath his fingers. “We have to get him out of here or he’s going to bleed to death. Get on the other side, we’ll haul him out.” Owen obeyed this time, but was clearly very nervous. They each grabbed an arm and lifted the Jedi up and out of the ship. As they did so, the man let out a low moan. They both froze.

“Anakin…” Owen whispered, his eyes wide with fright as they both stood stock still, waiting. But, the Jedi remained unconscious and they made their way slowly and awkwardly down to the edge of the fighter’s nose. Anakin hopped down as Owen slid the unconscious man down to him. Once Owen was down, they carried the Jedi out of the cargo hold and back to one of the lower bunks in the crew quarters.

“There should be a med kit over there somewhere, see if you can find it.” Anakin ripped a sheet and used the torn piece to mop up some of the blood from the man’s forehead. He examined the metal shard in the Jedi’s side. It didn’t look too deep but it would have to come out. Owen brought over the med kit and stood back a bit as Anakin prepared to pull the metal piece out.

“Wait!” Owen said suddenly, making Anakin jump.

“What?” Anakin asked, exasperated. Owen pointed at the Jedi’s utility belt, to a shining metal tube hanging there. Anakin unclipped the lightsaber, taking just a moment to feel the weight of it in his hand before attaching it to his own belt. “There, now he’s completely harmless.”

“Right,” Owen muttered under his breath. Anakin ignored him. Taking the metal shard in his hands again, he pulled it out with one swift motion. The Jedi groaned again, but remained asleep.

“He was lucky, it didn’t hit anything vital,” Anakin said as he examined the wound. “He’ll certainly be sore for a while though.” He opened the med kit and rummaged through the supplies. “It looks like someone forgot to restock the bacta patches.” He pulled a rudimentary roll of bandages from the kit.  Forcing Owen to help him, they began to bandage the Jedi up with the items from the med kit. Suddenly, the freighter rocked violently.

“What was that?” Owen asked, fear returning to his eyes. Before Anakin could answer, a second blast hit the freighter. “Uh-oh.”

“Come on!” Anakin jumped up and rushed back toward the cockpit.

“What about the Jedi?” Owen shouted after him, bewildered.

“Strap him down and get up here!” he yelled back as he leapt into the pilot’s seat. A small group of freighters flew overhead, guns blazing. He flipped the switch to bring power to the forward deflector shields. “It’s scavengers, from Geonosis by the look of them,” he said as Owen ran into the cockpit, strapping into the co-pilot’s seat.

“Why are they attacking us?”

“I guess we infringed on their territory.” Anakin brought the _Outlander’s_ engines roaring to life and zoomed out of the path of a barrage of incoming blaster fire.

“So much for going back for the power cell,” Owen said grumpily as he checked the scanners. “Three ships, but the scanners are showing more approaching from the planet.”  
  
“Then I think it’s time for us to go.” Anakin put the freighter into a stomach-churning dive, eluding his pursuers as he whizzed through the debris field. Owen clung to the armrests of the co-pilot’s chair.

“You know, if you pulverize us it kind of defeats the point of escape,” Owen reminded Anakin through gritted teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as they flew at top speed within inches of the hull of a gutted frigate. Anakin grinned and gunned the engines, pushing them to their maximum capacity. He whipped the ship around the remains of a frigate’s bulkhead, and saw the blinding flash as one of his pursuers failed to make the turn and smashed in spectacular fashion into the debris.

“That’s one down,” Anakin said as he pulled the ship out of a barrell roll and heading toward the edge of the debris field. The two remaining ships followed him, as he knew they would. “Owen, get ready to open the cargo hold.” Too convinced he was about to die to argue, Owen put his hand on the cargo release. “Now!” Owen threw the release lever.

The damaged Jedi fighter flew out behind the freighter, sucked into the vacuum of space. Anakin waited just a beat as he aimed his rear guns at the fuselage. Then he fired. The fighter exploded in a fiery ball, taking the two approaching Geonosian ships with it. Anakin whooped with victory as he pulled back on the engines and returned the freighter to cruising speed. He began to set the coordinates into the navicomputer to make the jump to lightspeed. Owen let out  a heavy sigh of relief, but worry was still etched on his brow.

“Anakin, what about the Jedi?” he asked.

“What about him?”

“What are we going to do with him when we get back to Mos Espa? Sola will never…”

“She doesn’t need to know,” Anakin said with a hint of threat in his voice.

“If the Hutts don’t kill you, she will when she finds out.”

“She won’t find out,” Anakin said firmly.

“She _always_ finds out,” Owen said, sighing and leaning back in this chair.

“Let me worry about that.”

“The problem with that is, you don’t worry about anything.”

“Owen...have a little faith,” Anakin replied as the stars elongated and the _Outlander_ leapt into hyperspace, headed for home.


	2. Bounty for a Jedi

**Bounty for a Jedi**

Of the the few settlements on the desert world of Tatooine, Mos Eisley had the fiercest reputation, but the locals knew the real danger lurked in Mos Espa, the seat of the Hutts’ power. Anakin had lived his whole life in their shadow. He had learned at a very young age that to cross the Hutts carried a sentence of death, or worse. To bring a Jedi Knight, a champion of the much-despised Republic, into their territory was not an intelligent choice. He knew this. And yet, he was going to do it anyway. 

He generally did not believe in fate, but he had the distinct sense he was meant to find the Jedi. That excuse, however, would never fly with his mother. She had done her best to squash any remnant of that kind of idealism out of him after his father’s death, and she had largely succeeded. 

She would not approve of his rescue of the Jedi, Owen was right about that much. It was exactly the kind of thing his father would have done and it was undeniably foolish. Sola Skywalker did not suffer fools and she would certainly not stand for a Jedi on her beloved ship. If, that is, she found out. 

Fortunately for Anakin, his mother was in Mos Eisley on business. She shouldn’t be back for two more days, which gave him a little breathing room. He sorely needed it, as he had no idea what his plan was. What he did know, beyond any shadow of a doubt, was that he was meant to find this Jedi Knight. Something more powerful than the Hutts or his mother’s wrath had lead him to that fighter of all the hundreds of fighters in the debris field. Something beyond mere chance.

_ The Force _ . It felt dangerous even to think it. His mother had forbidden all discussion of it. Could the Jedi’s ancient religion have something to do with the strange abilities in his family line? Apart from his mother, he had never known another being who could tap into that power. But with the arrival of the Jedi, that could all change. He had always thought the only way off Tatooine was by winning podraces, but perhaps there was another choice, another destiny that awaited him.

“We’re approaching Tatooine,” Owen announced, interrupting Anakin’s reverie. “Are you okay?” Owen gave Anakin a sideways look. Anakin blinked a few times, bringing his feet down from where they had been propped against the bulkhead. He hadn’t realized he’d been so deep in thought.

“I’m fine. Are the sublight engines ready?” 

“They’re online now,” Owen said. 

Anakin nodded, and reached for the ship’s controls. Keeping one eye on the navicomputer, he eased the  _ Outlander  _ out of hyperspace and fired up the sublight engines. As the stars returned to normal, the twin suns of Tatooine bloomed into existence before them, shining brightly with their blinding, punishing light. 

The freighter sped toward the sand covered planet, headed for Mos Espa. Anakin squinted against the reflection of the suns on the dunes as Mos Espa finally came into view, shimmering like a mirage in the intense midday heat. As he set the  _ Outlander _ down in the hangar, a light on the comm began to blink. 

“What is it?” Anakin asked.

“Some kind of bulletin...oh no.” As the transmission came through, Anakin leaned in to look over Owen’s shoulder. There on the screen readout was the offer of a bounty for a Jedi Knight, General Obi-Wan Kenobi. Anakin’s pulse began to quicken. “Forty-thousand...fifty if he’s brought in alive,” Owen read aloud. “Anakin...this is bigger trouble than we thought.” 

“We don’t even know if it’s him,” Anakin protested, but privately he was beginning to think maybe Owen was right. Maybe he had gotten them in too deep. 

“There’s a holo.” Owen punched the holo-projector on. The image flickered alive and became the face of the unconscious Jedi in their crew quarters. Owen swiveled his chair around, fixing Anakin with a challenging stare.  “So,” he said, “now what?”

*******

Anakin and Owen stepped back to admire their handiwork. If they were honest with themselves, it wasn’t much to be proud of. The Jedi Knight, who they now knew to be Obi-Wan Kenobi, was still unconscious. He was restrained hand and foot with binders, which were additionally chained to the bunk post. For anyone else it would have seemed an impossible escape, but from what little they knew of the Jedi, Anakin and Owen suspected it might not be enough. 

“He’s going to get free,” Owen said,  verbalizing what they were both thinking. 

“His wounds will keep him from leaving. Besides, where is he going to go? The whole system is a death trap for him, especially Mos Espa. There are bounty hunters everywhere.” 

“He doesn’t  _ know _ where he is, how can he realize it isn’t safe for him to go wandering around?” Owen asked. This, Anakin had to concede, was a fair point. However, he had a remedy. He retrieved the medical kit and dug into the bottom of it. His fingers curled around a small vial and he pulled it out, along with a syringe.

“We’ll just make sure he doesn’t wake up while we’re gone.” Anakin filled the syringe with hypnocane and administered a heavy dose to the already unconscious Jedi. “There,” he said, packing up the med kit. 

“Maybe you should stay with him. Can Jedi overpower hypnocane?” Owen asked. Anakin frowned. He honestly didn’t know, but standing guard over the Jedi wasn’t an option. He didn’t care to admit it, but their failure to procure the powercell from the debris field was a problem. He had to find an alternative solution tonight or his pod wouldn’t be ready to race tomorrow. 

Maybe the Force was trying to pull him down a different path, and maybe it wasn’t, but he wasn’t going to leave anything to chance. He had to win that race. He almost suggested that Owen stay instead, but decided not to test his friend’s patience any further. 

“I gave him a double-dose, it should be fine,” he told Owen, offering reassurance he only half-believed. 

“But Anakin, what are we going to do with him? The Hutts are dangerous enough, but the Separatists are looking for him too. We can’t keep him here.”

“What do you suggest we do? Turn him over and collect the bounty?” Anakin asked, his temper flaring.

“You’ve had worse ideas,” Owen muttered. “It’s more money than the Boonta prize.” Anakin paused. He hadn’t considered that, but Owen was right. It was more. His eyes drifted to the unconscious form of Kenobi on the bunk. It would certainly be one way to achieve his goal, the bounty would more than provide the means to start anew. But tempted though he was, Anakin shook his head. He wouldn’t sacrifice a man’s life for money. He wasn’t that desperate. Not yet.

“I’m not going to do that,” Anakin said firmly. Owen sighed, but knew better than to argue.

“Then what  _ are _ you going to do?”

“I’ll think of something,” Anakin said as he gathered up his things, preparing to leave. “In the meantime, tomorrow is the Boonta Eve and we have a podracer to repair.”

“You’re still going to race? After all this?” Owen asked.

“Of course,” Anakin said, shouldering his rucksack. “Besides, a little extra cash might come in handy if we do get caught.” Owen balked at the thought. 

“Even the Boonta Eve prize isn’t enough to buy our way out if that happens,” Owen lamented. 

“Don’t be so sure. This is Tatooine. Everyone has a price and every price is negotiable,” Anakin said as he and Owen exited the  _ Outlander _ and sealed the gangway behind them, leaving the captive Jedi behind. 

*******

_ Death _ , Obi-Wan thought to himself,  _ would surely have been preferable to this _ . His entire body protested its continued existence as his eyes fluttered open, welcoming him back to a world of excruciating pain. His vision was blurry, as were his thoughts. Was he aboard a ship? He didn’t think he was in motion, but his mind felt so addled he couldn’t be sure. 

Everything was in a fog. He shook his head trying to clear it, but was rewarded only with a new throbbing pain that seemed to be centered at the core of his brain. He tried to sit up, and heard the rattle of a chain. He was cognizant enough to realize that his hands and feet were bound. There was also a strange lightness to his utility belt, and he realized with a pang that his lightsaber was gone. 

Leaning back and closing his eyes, he tried once more to clear his mind, but this time he reached out through the Force, entering a state of meditation. His breathing slowed. His mind separated itself from the aches and ailments of his body, attuning itself to the Force rather than to his physical condition. Strength began to return to his limbs, and the heavy fog in his brain thinned somewhat.

The binders that held him suddenly opened, and Obi-Wan Kenobi stood up, free of his bonds. Still, he had to reach out and steady himself on the bunk post, as he almost immediately began to wobble. He sat back down. Perhaps he was moving a little faster than was necessary. Looking around, he could see that he was in what appeared to be the crew quarters of a ship, but certainly not of any vessel he recognized. He returned to his meditation, working backwards, trying to remember how he had gotten here. Wherever here was.

In his mind he saw the battle. The flashes of red and green blaster fire, the roar of his fighter’s engines. Victory had been so close! And then, something else. A disturbance in the Force, a presence filled with darkness and rage such as he had never known. And the arrival of that strange black ship and then his own troops turning their guns on him, bringing his ship down. Had it really happened? It seemed almost beyond belief. 

His meditation was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps, and Obi-Wan’s eyes snapped open. He looked around, trying to locate a good hiding spot, and took a wobbly dive behind two stacked storage crates. The door to the crew quarters hissed open. The footfalls moved closer. Obi-Wan held his breath, pulling his legs up tight against his body, hoping to go unnoticed.

A moment later he found himself staring down the barrel of a blaster, his hopes dashed. Obi-Wan raised his head to get a good look at the person at the other end of the weapon. As he gazed at the tall, middle-aged woman before him, he immediately had the impression she was rather accustomed to holding people at blaster-point. 

Intimidating was the first word that came to mind as he looked at her. Her dark hair was pulled back from her face, and she looked down on him with striking blue eyes. However mesmerizing the color though, he saw in her gaze only suspicion and anger.

“What the hell are you doing aboard my ship?” She asked brusquely, continuing to keep her blaster trained right between the Jedi’s eyes. There was the slightest trace of a Core world accent in her speech, but nothing else about her suggested that she came from one of the wealthy and privileged world’s at the center of the galaxy. 

Obi-Wan held up his hands in what he hoped was a peaceful gesture. “To be honest, I’m not entirely sure how I got on your ship,” he said. Her eyes narrowed. 

“Don’t play games with me. I know what you are, Jedi,” she said, emphasizing the final word as though it left an unpleasant taste in her mouth. “Get up,” she said sharply, gesturing with her blaster towards the bunk. Obi-Wan got slowly to his feet and walked back to the bunk, trying to ignore the shooting pain in his side. The woman continued to point her blaster at him as she took a closer look at his face. “I know you,” she said as she studied him. Obi-Wan looked up, surprised. “You’re the one they’re looking for. Kenobi.”

“They?” he asked, already suspecting the answer.

“The Separatists. They’ve put quite the price on your head. Forty-thousand, fifty if you’re still alive on delivery.” Obi-Wan sighed heavily. This was not good. 

“I don’t suppose you would consider not collecting that bounty?”

She laughed. He assumed that was a no. “You really have no idea where you are, do you?” she asked him, almost pityingly. 

“Perhaps you would care to enlighten me?” he asked in an effort to keep her talking while he attempted to find a way out of this mess.

“You’re on Tatooine, right in the middle of Hutt space. And that bounty...well, let’s just say that’s more money than most people on this planet will ever see.” There was no doubt in his mind now that she meant to turn him in. If another person had found him, he might have been able to manipulate them into letting him go, but not with this woman. This was not a weak-minded individual he could easily influence. He was going to have to fight his way out. 

“It isn’t personal, you understand, but these are desperate times,” she said. He believed her. He knew the war had struck hardest in the Outer Rim, especially among traders and pilots. She was simply doing what any intelligent, survival-oriented person would do when faced with a difficult circumstance. That didn’t mean, however, that he was going to let her win. 

“What makes you think you can take me alive?” he asked her, raising an eyebrow. 

She flashed him a grin. “You’ll find I’m full of surprises.” At that moment, Obi-Wan flung out his hand, and a durasteel pipe came hurtling out of the corner and towards his outstretched fingers...but it never made it. Obi-Wan stared, open mouthed as the woman reached out her free hand with impossible speed and snatched the pipe out of the air. She had not even turned to look at it.

Obi-Wan felt time freeze as he sat there, stunned. Then his own hand shot up and grabbed the pipe as she swung it towards his head. He grabbed it with his other hand as well, wrenching it free of her grip. He took a swing at the hand holding her blaster, but she was too quick and dodged out of the way, rolling sideways on the ground and coming up on one knee, ready to fire. Obi-Wan leapt aside, dropping the pipe as the blaster bolt singed his robes. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, fending off the aches and pains that threatened to slow him. He ran for the gangway. 

The woman chased after him and Obi-Wan turned to face her. His change in momentum seemed to surprise her and he took her moment of hesitation to grab her blaster arm and twist it painfully around. She let out a cry and dropped the weapon, and Obi-Wan stamped down on it with the heel of his boot, smashing the barrel. 

Letting out a curse as her weapon was destroyed, she brought her knee up hard and landed a blow to the Jedi’s thigh, forcing him to release her. As Kenobi stumbled back in pain, she pulled an ancient-looking and strangely marked vibroblade from the back of her utility belt. There was something familiar about the markings, but Obi-Wan didn’t have time to dwell on it as she came at him again, moving with a precision and speed that seemed out of character for an Outer Rim freighter captain. 

Obi-Wan bobbed and weaved, breathing heavily, all his energy focused on avoiding her knife blade.  _ This shouldn’t be so hard _ , he thought. Tired and injured he might have been, but he was still a Jedi. It was something about the woman. She wasn’t just a good fighter, she was tapping into the Force,  _ on purpose _ . He had sometimes come across a Force-sensitive being who could unconsciously use their power, but this was different. She had been trained. 

As if she had read his mind, the woman stretched out her free hand and the durasteel pipe Obi-Wan had dropped soared across the crew quarters and into her grasp.  _ Yes _ , he thought,  _ definitely trained _ . A pry bar rested against one of the cargo units stowed next to the gangway and Obi-Wan grabbed it. It was a far cry from his lightsaber, but it would have to do. He raised it in defense as she struck at him with the pipe. She continued to attack with great ferocity, forcing him back away from the gangway towards the crew’s quarters. 

He could feel her anger and realized that she was using it, channeling it through the Force to give her strength. Whoever had taught her to use the Force, it hadn’t been a Jedi. She took a swing at him with her fist and nearly landed the punch, which came with more speed than Obi-Wan had anticipated, but he managed to duck out of the way just in time. He landed a hard kick to her ribs and she stumbled back for a moment, but soon renewed her attack. The freighter’s cramped corridor reverberated with the clangs of metal meeting metal as they battled on.

The Jedi fended off her blows, but his body was beginning to protest. He had pushed it to its injured limit. He felt his arms give out as she landed an especially hard blow against his pry bar with the durasteel pipe, forcing him to turn to the side. Her blade caught the edge of his cheek, drawing blood. The next moment he felt her boot impact hard on his ribs, just above the wound in his side. Agony shot through his whole torso and he fell to his knees. He was beaten. He looked up just in time to see the durasteel pipe careening toward his head. There was a blinding pain in his left temple, and then, for the second time that day, blackness overcame him. 

*******

Sola’s day was not going to plan. She ruminated on this with a degree of ire as she dragged the Jedi’s now unconscious and heavily drugged form off her ship and heaved him into the waiting land speeder. Her trip to Mos Eisley had been cut short. Halfway there she’d been informed that the Rodians she was due to meet had been taken captive by the Republic for smuggling arms to Separatists. Yet another casualty of this senseless war. 

She had returned to Mos Espa, already in a foul mood, expecting to find her son and Owen hard at work on the many repairs the  _ Outlander _ so desperately needed. Instead, the two boys were nowhere to be found and in their place was a Jedi Knight. A Jedi Knight actively being hunted by the Separatists, no less. She had no doubt this was all Anakin’s doing. It was so typical of that peculiar Skywalker brand of foolishness he seemed to have inherited from his father. She felt her blood begin to boil at the thought. 

_ No, _ she told herself,  _ don’t go there, it will only make things worse. _ It always made things worse when she dwelt on the memory of her late husband and his reckless ways. And right now, she didn’t need that, she needed to keep her wits about her. Making deals with bounty hunters was not something to undertake with a distracted mind, even if the one she intended to swindle was among the most foolhardy creatures in Mos Espa. 

She rearranged the tarp over the Jedi several times as she cooled her temper, focusing her mind on the task at hand. Finally satisfied that her prize was secured and her nerves were calmed, Sola took her spare blaster from its compartment in the speeder and placed it in her holster before leaping lightly into the driver’s seat and speeding off towards the dunes in search of her old friend Vikrum.

*******

Vikrum Sh’loth was not known for making good decisions, and Sola valued him for that. It was useful to have someone who walked the line between reckless bravery and pure stupidity, someone who would take on risks others would never dare. Vikrum made camp outside Mos Espa, pitching his tents on the dunes, constantly enticing the Tusken Raiders to attack him and his little band of accomplices. It was this kind of brash decision that made Sola certain Vikrum would take the Jedi off her hands. 

She pulled up in her speeder next to the big tent where Vikrum himself lived, and was immediately greeted by a troop of various species pointing highly modified blasters at her. Undeterred, she exited the speeder and walked towards the main tent. She heard the poorly concealed whispers of Vikrum’s crew as she passed. It was always the same.  _ Sorceress _ , they called her, _ the desert witch _ . She didn’t relish it exactly, but she recognized that there was an advantage to letting them believe whatever it was they believed about her. Fear could be a powerful ally. 

As she approached, the large Bothan lumbered out of his humble abode as she neared and waved off his goons. Bothans were generally small of stature, but Vikrum defied his genetics on that front, towering well above Sola. It mattered little. She was not afraid of Vikrum, but he was afraid of her. That was how Sola liked it. 

“Vikrum, how are you my old friend?” she greeted him, stretching out her hand. Vikrum didn’t accept the gesture, and eyed her warily. Perhaps he was getting a little wiser in his old age after all. 

“What do you want, Skywalker?” he asked, cautiously. 

“I’ve got something I think you’ll be interested in.”

“Like I was interested in that spice shipment from Nar Shaddaa? Those canisters were marked! Do you have any idea how much trouble you caused me?” He took a step toward her, but Sola didn’t back up and he remained at a safe distance. She knew her reputation was the only thing keeping her out of a fight.

“This is different,” she said calmly, though her hand hovered near her blaster.

“All deals with you are the same. Dangerous.” Vikrum turned away, but Sola wasn’t going to give up yet.

“Even for fifty thousand?”

The Bothan turned back around. “Fifty?” His ears had perked up, but he was still suspicious. “How?”

Sola went to her speeder and threw off the tarp to reveal the slumbering form of Obi-Wan Kenobi. Vikrum stepped back, staring at Sola. “Is it Kenobi, the one the Separatists want?” 

“It is.”

“Why is he still alive?”

“You didn’t hear? There is a bonus if he’s delivered alive. Ten thousand extra.” 

“Is he…” Vikrum paused, peering down at the from a measured distance Jedi, “...safe?” 

“Yes, as long as he’s asleep.” She took a small satchel from the speeder and pushed it into the Bothan’s hands. “Here, I brought you some extra hypnocane. It should keep him knocked out.” Vikrum took the satchel, but he still seemed uncertain. He took another look at the Jedi.

“Where’s his lightsaber?” Sola had wondered this herself, but saw no reason to let Vikrum think there was any part of the situation she wasn’t in control of.

“It’s not included,” she stated simply, hoping that would settle it. Vikrum narrowed his eyes, but didn’t press the matter.  

“Ikira!” he called to one of his cronies, “Verify him.” A young human female skittered forward with a scanner, inserting a chip into it and passing it over the Jedi’s immobile face. 

“It’s him alright. General Obi-Wan Kenobi, wanted by the Separatists. Forty dead, fifty alive.”

“Alright, Skywalker, what’s your cut?” Vikrum demanded, turning back to Sola.  

“Twenty percent. Upfront.”

“Twenty? You’re mad!”

“If you don't take it I’m sure I can find another bounty hunter who will. Besides, I’ve already done all the hard work. You just have to deliver him. I should really ask for more…” Sola said, turning away slightly. 

“Fine, fine. Twenty.” She flashed a grin. Vikrum had not disappointed her. 

“Upfront,” she reminded him. He sent Ikira back into the tent for the funds and the small woman returned with a large stack of money. Sola did a quick count, but she needn’t have worried. Vikrum knew better than to try and cheat her. Four other members of his crew surrounded her speeder and lifted out the unconscious Jedi. 

Sola felt a pang of unexpected guilt as they hauled him away. But this was just the way of things on Tatooine. You did what you had to in order to survive, that was the law of the desert. Silencing the nagging voice of guilt in her head, she saluted Vikrum and got back into the speeder. “A pleasure doing business with you, as always,” she said, and sped off, back towards Mos Espa. 

*******

Covered in sandy grime and grease from an afternoon spent readying the pod for the next day’s race, Anakin and Owen returned to the  _ Outlander _ dirty and exhausted. As they entered the hangar, Owen stopped short, staring at the lowered gangway of the freighter. Anakin saw it too. 

He’d sensed something was wrong as they’d approached and his worst fears now seemed confirmed. He could no longer sense the Jedi’s presence, but he did sense something else, something all too familiar. He ran towards the ship, ignoring Owen’s shouted protests, and sprang up the gangway and through the corridor to the crew quarters. His heart sank as he stared at the empty bunk.

“Looking for your friend?” a hard voice behind him asked. Anakin turned to meet the steely gaze of his mother, who leaned in the doorway, arms folded over her chest. He could sense the displeasure radiating off of her, but he didn’t care. He was angry too. 

“What did you do with him?” he demanded to know, taking a step forward and straightening up to his considerable full height, his fists clenched. She was a tall woman, but he towered over her. Sola didn’t flinch, but moved forward herself, staring him down with icy blue eyes that matched his own. 

“I handled it as it needed to be handled,” she said coldly, jabbing her index finger at Anakin and making no effort to keep the angry edge out of her voice. “Which is more than I can say for you. What were you possibly  _ thinking _ ?” 

Anakin opened his mouth to answer, but no words formed. He knew there was no explanation she would accept. Fortunately, Owen stepped through the door and provided his mother with another target. “And  _ you _ !” she said, wheeling on Owen, “I expect this kind of foolishness from Anakin, but you are supposed to be the voice of reason!”

“I tried to stop him, Captain, I swear I did.” Owen held his hands up as though to further prove his innocence. Anakin fumed at Owen’s lack of loyalty.  

Anakin jumped in, trying to explain himself. “We found him in the debris field above Geonosis, he would have died if we…”

“No, I don’t want to hear about your mercy mission, or know anything more about this Jedi.” Sola cut him off. “Anakin, you endangered all of our lives, do you realize that?” 

“I don’t care! You had no right to take him!” Anakin yelled back, his anger bubbling over. He wouldn’t stand for this, he wouldn’t be shamed by her, not when he knew what she had done. “You turned him in, didn’t you?” he asked accusingly. “You gave him up to the Separatists?” He didn’t have to ask, he could read the truth in her mind, through the deep connection they had always shared. But he wanted to hear her admit it. She frowned at him, her jaw clenched. 

“Yes,” she said finally. “I did.” Anakin held her gaze for just a moment, then stormed past her, knocking Owen aside. “Anakin!” she called after him, but he wasn’t having any of it. “I did it to protect this family!” He heard her shout as he stomped down the gangway, but he kept walking. He heard her quick footsteps behind him as she followed. “Anakin, stop. Listen to me!” she said as she caught up with him and grabbed his arm, forcing him to turn. 

“I’m not interested in anything you have to say,” he said cooly, wrenching his arm away.

“What part of this do you not understand? I did the only thing I could.”   


“You didn’t have to turn him in,” Anakin said sullenly. 

“The Separatists are dangerous, and I don’t have to tell you what the Hutts are capable of. What if I hadn’t come home early? If you’d been caught harboring a Jedi you would have been killed.” 

“You don’t know that,” he insisted.

“Yes, I do. The Separatists have no qualms about taking out anyone who stands in their way. And as for the Hutts, well, they killed your father for less.”   
  
“This has nothing to do with what happened to him,” Anakin said, wishing she hadn’t brought it up.

“Yes, it does. The rules for staying alive are simple. You don’t make enemies, you don’t give anyone a reason to want you dead. Your father learned that lesson too late. I lost him, I won’t lose you.”

Anakin stood in silence, unwilling to surrender his anger to the seeds of guilt she had sown in his mind. “You aren’t going to make me feel guilty, not when you are the one who just condemned a man to death,” he said at last.

“You can’t be certain death will be his fate,” she said softly. 

Anakin huffed incredulously at her claim. He was done with this conversation. “I don’t want to fight with you about this anymore,” he said, turning away toward the hangar exit.

“Where are you going?” she called after him.

“I need to clear my head,” he said over his shoulder. He could feel her watching him as he disappeared into the dark streets of Mos Espa, but she didn’t try to stop him this time. He wandered aimlessly for a while, lost in thought. He had been so certain, so undeniably sure that his path was meant to align with the Jedi’s. And now the Jedi was gone, soon to be dead at the hands of the Separatists.

He bumped into a passerby, who shoved him angrily into the wall of the alleyway. Deciding the streets might not be the best place to gather his thoughts, Anakin scrambled up a stack of storage barrels and jumped up onto the domed roof of a local scrap shop. Unlike the streets below, the rooftops of Mos Espa were peaceful. He often retreated to them when he needed to think. 

Arranging his rucksack as a pillow he sprawled out on the roof and looked up at the myriad stars above. As he shifted his head it bumped up against something hard in the front pocket of the ruck sack. Twisting around to remove the offending object, he found it was the Jedi’s lightsaber. He pulled it free, truly looking at it for the first time. 

Tempted though he was to ignite it, he knew it would draw unwanted attention, so he simply held the metal tube in his hands, testing its weight, resigning himself to only imagining what it might be like to feel the powerful hum of the laser blade through the hilt. It saddened him to think that the lightsaber’s true owner would never have need of it again.

He lay back against the ruck sack again, still clutching the lightsaber in his hands across his chest as he contemplated the stars.  _ Perhaps the Jedi isn’t dead after all, _ he thought, as his eyes tracked the lights of a ship heading towards orbit,  _ perhaps our paths will cross again _ . Whatever the fate of the Jedi Knight, Anakin made himself a promise to himself as he drifted off to sleep: Tomorrow, he would win the Boonta Eve race, and with his winnings he would finally be able to leave Tatooine forever. And there was nothing Owen, or his mother, or anyone else could do to stop him. 


	3. The Boonta Eve Classic

** The Boonta Eve Classic **

As the twin suns rose over the dunes, Anakin woke still atop of the scrap shop, his back a bit sore from the unusual sleeping spot. He gathered his things and jumped down into the alley below. The streets of Mos Espa were mostly empty at this hour, but he knew they would soon be bustling as the crowds made their way to Grand Arena for the Boonta Eve Classic. It was the premiere pod-racing event on Tatooine, overseen by Jabba himself. No citizen of Mos Espa would miss it. And this year Anakin intended to give them a race to remember. 

As he walked, he cleared his mind, emptying it of the troubles from the day before. He couldn’t afford to be distracted today. In podracing, a moment’s slip of concentration could be deadly. He knew that well enough from going to the races to bet with his father as a young boy, and later, after his father’s death, when money had been tight, to watch his mother race. 

He’d seen the crashes, pods turned into high-speed fireballs or smashed into oblivion on the side of a canyon wall. His mother had been in a bad crash ten years before, the first time she’d ever lost the Boonta. Today, Anakin was determined to achieve the victory she had been robbed of; a victory that could free him from a life of mediocrity. 

That was what he focused on as he approached the Grand Arena, the towering grandstands looming over him, by far the tallest structures in Mos Espa. He made his way to the pilots’ pit and to the locked stall where his pod waited for him. As he unlocked the gate and began to prepare to tow the pod out of the stall, a beat-up old speeder came zooming into the staging area and Owen Lars jumped out, looking flustered.

“Hey, you could have woken me up!” Owen said as he came over to Anakin, still buckling his belt after obviously getting dressed in extreme haste.

“I needed some time to myself,” Anakin said, mildly perturbed. He did need Owen’s help to ready the pod, but he’d hoped to have an hour or two to prepare himself before that. 

“Oh. Sorry, I…” Owen cast about awkwardly, and Anakin took pity on him.

“Don’t worry about it. As long as you’re here, grab that tow cable and let’s get this thing out of the stall.” Owen nodded and helped Anakin set up the tow cables to the repulsor sled and bring the pod out into the open area outside the stall. As they unhooked the cables, Anakin turned back to Owen to ask him a question he didn’t really want to. “Is she coming?” He knew the answer as soon as Owen wouldn’t meet his gaze. 

“She didn’t say,” Owen said after a moment’s pause. Anakin nodded. He shouldn’t have been surprised. Not only had they fought the night before, but his mother hated watching him race. She knew the dangers firsthand and it killed her that her only child would risk his life in the arena when he had a choice not to. She had always raced out of necessity, first in the service of Jabba after she was caught stealing from him, and then later as a way to make ends meet after his father died and they’d lost everything repaying his debts. But part of him always hoped she would be there to watch.

Anakin and Owen worked in silence, tuning up the pod, checking and rechecking all its components. Slowly the other racers and their crews trickled in. Unlike Anakin, who built and maintained his own pod, most of his opponents were sponsored by wealthy patrons and had everything provided for them. It didn’t matter though. Anakin knew he was better and faster than every other racer. He knew he was going to win. 

As the pit began to teem with activity, a Dugg made his way through the crowd toward Anakin and Owen. Anakin felt a burning anger in his chest as the Dugg approached. Sebulba was the reigning champion of the Boonta, and a ruthless racer. He had a terrifying reputation for causing crashes. Indeed, he’d been responsible for the crash a decade earlier that had almost cost Sola Skywalker her life.

“Sebulba,” Anakin said curtly, giving the Dugg the vaguest of nods. The Dugg did not return the gesture.

“I heard you’ve made a name for yourself on the Tatooine circuit, Skywalker,” Sebulba said in Huttese, looking over Anakin’s pod, “but I think you’ll find the Boonta is out of your league.”

“I’m sure I can handle it,” Anakin replied, also in Huttese. Owen, who had never mastered the language, looked on with worry etched on his face. 

“Haha, yes. So confident. Just like your mother.” Anakin’s jaw clenched at the mention of his mother. “Such a pity the way her racing career ended. But, crashes do happen of course.” Anakin’s short fuse burned out. He lunged, grabbing one of the Dugg’s many arms as he tried to land a blow to Sebulba’s head. 

He could hear Owen shouting. His mind felt clouded by his anger, and he was soon lost in a tangle of limbs as the Dugg struck back, punching Anakin’s shoulder and then pinning him to the ground, his foot pressing down on Anakin’s chest. Sebulba put his face next to Anakin’s ear. “I crushed your mother on this course and I will crush you too,” he whispered fiercely. 

The blood pounded in Anakin’s head as he struggled to breathe, but then he heard the click of a blaster’s safety and he heard Owen’s voice, trembling slightly, but resolute. “Let him go. Now.”

The pressure on his chest suddenly released and Anakin got to his feet. Owen was still pointing his blaster at Sebulba. The Dugg shrugged and gave them both a sneering smile as he walked off, back to his pit crew. Owen exhaled audibly as the Dugg moved off. 

“Thanks,” Anakin said to his friend as he massaged his chest. No doubt that would be a bruise later. 

“Just make sure you beat him, alright?” Owen said as he holstered his blaster, his hand still shaking.

“Don’t worry,” Anakin said, putting a hand on Owen’s shoulder, “I will.”

*******

Once again Obi-Wan felt his consciousness fighting through the haze of the hypnocane, but this time he did not open his eyes. Through the pounding in his head he had enough of his wits about him to realize he was not alone. 

“Well, I’m not giving it to him,” said a low, gruff male voice. 

“If we don’t do it, he’ll wake up,” a woman replied. 

“It isn’t safe. You know it isn’t safe. I don’t know what Vikrum was thinking.”

“That bounty is worth more than your life, that’s what he was thinking.”

“Ikira, I don’t like this. That Skywalker woman can’t be trusted. Her abilities aren’t natural, I’m telling you. She’s a sorceress!”

_ Skywalker _ , Obi-Wan thought. That was the woman’s name. 

“She could be a Krayt dragon for all I care. It doesn’t matter. The important thing is she delivered this Jedi to us and now we’re going to be rich. Come on, give me the syringe, I’ll do it.” 

“But why did she do that? Why didn’t she hand him over and collect the bounty herself? Why settle for only twenty percent?”

“You’re overthinking it Jaks. Now let’s just drug him and get out of here.” 

The time had come to act.  If he was dosed again with sedative he could wake up in a yet worse position. Sensing a moment’s hesitation from the would-be administer of the hypnocane, Obi-Wan suddenly reached around and grabbed her wrist. She dropped the syringe in shock and tried to pull away, as her male counterpart, a grey-furred Gotal, scrambled backward in alarm, tripping over a storage container. 

Obi-Wan grabbed the syringe and jammed it into the woman’s shoulder. She let out a sharp cry, and then sunk down to the floor, knocked out by the powerful sedative. The Gotal made a diving grab for Obi-Wan’s legs from his position on the floor, but the Jedi leapt out of the way with a forward flip. There was a sharp pain in his torso as he landed and had to reach out to steady himself against the wall, grasping his side. Looking down he saw blood on his hand, leaking from the crude cloth bandage wrapped around his middle. 

There was no time to worry about his injury, as the Gotal was getting to his feet. Obi-Wan sprinted for the doorway, reaching it just as the first blaster bolt struck the ceiling above his head. He punched the controls and the door hissed open, washing the room in intense heat and sunlight. Obi-Wan ran forward, his eyes temporarily blinded by the bright light of the dual suns reflecting off the sand dunes. 

“Hey!” He heard a voice cry out behind him. “Hey, the Jedi is getting away!” Obi-Wan looked back over his shoulder to see a small gang of ruffians grabbing their weapons and running after him through the sand. Instinctively he reached for his lightsaber, but his hand came up empty. 

“Blast!” He swore to himself, remembering that he’d lost the weapon somewhere between the battle above Geonosis and his mysterious arrival on this awful planet. Blaster bolts began to zip past him at an alarming rate. Spotting a speeder bike on the outskirts of the camp, Obi-Wan made a mad dash for it, zig-zagging his steps to avoid the blaster fire all around him. Despite his injuries, he leapt for the bike and managed a rough landing on the seat. A laser bolt skimmed his right boot, singeing the leather.  _ Time to go _ , he thought, firing up the speeder’s engines and zipping away over the dunes. 

*******

Anakin watched the flag parade as the podracers were towed out to the start line, doing his best to shake his nerves. Near the top of the grandstand he could make out the massive and grotesque form of Jabba the Hutt, the patron of the event. A wave of hatred washed over him as he looked up at the gangster who had ordered his father’s murder, but he pushed it away. He would have his revenge, one day, but for now he would content himself with taking the Hutt’s money. 

As the last of the flags crossed the track, Anakin made his way over to his pod, making a few last minute adjustments and waiting for his introduction. Several large vidscreens around the arena lit up as the dual-headed master of ceremonies announced each pilot in turn, first in Huttese and then in Basic. 

Sebulba, the reigning champion of the Boonta was introduced first, followed by Quadrinaros, a novice Toong racer who seemed more than a little bewildered at the roar of the crowd. Then, it was Anakin’s turn. “And in lane three, only the second human to ever race in the Boonta Eve Classic, the native son of Mos Espa, Anakin Skywalker!” Anakin turned and gave a brief wave to the crowd before jumping lightly into the seat of his podracer. 

After the other racers were introduced, the final countdown to the start of the race began. The podracers gunned their engines, eager for the start. Anakin watched, his heart pounding, as the counter’s numerals decreased. Three, two, one...the red light above the start line flashed green and he hit the throttle, his pod speeding forward with tremendous force, leaving a wake of dirt and sand. As he rounded the first turn out of the stands he heard the crowd roar. The race was on. 

*******

Moments after he commandeered the speeder bike, Obi-Wan heard the roar of engines and behind him he could see the bounty hunters giving him chase. He pushed the speeder into its highest gear, determined to put some distance between himself and his pursuers. In the distance he could see a settlement. If he could just make it there, he might be able to shake them off. He didn’t stand much chance in the wide open spaces of the dunes, that much was certain. 

The speeder bike lurched to the side as a laser blast grazed it, ricocheting off into the desert sky. Obi-Wan leaned into the controls, moving at angles across the desert to make it harder for the blasters to find their target. He was rapidly closing in on the edge of the settlement ahead. He flew the speeder bike into an alleyway as he reached it, dodging pedestrians as they jumped out of the way, swearing loudly at him as he zipped past. 

A large crowd of people seemed to be moving toward the west side of the settlement. Obi-Wan avoided them, heading east and north, but in the distance he could see that they were heading toward what looked to be a stadium of some kind on the outskirts of town. 

He took a sharp turn into a narrow street, and swung the bike around behind a building. Cutting the engine, he waited, hoping they would pass. Sure enough, a moment later his pursuers zipped past, one after another, unaware that he had turned. The Jedi breathed a sigh of relief. After a few moments, he cautiously turned on the engine and began to make his way toward the ship hangars on the other side of town. It was time for him to leave this Force-forsaken place. 

*******

As the race began Anakin stayed in the pack, lingering just to the outside and letting a few of the bigger pods take the lead. He knew better than to try and lead from the start. As the podracers rounded the second turn into the canyons, Sebulba’s huge pod side-checked Ody Mandrell’s while trying to take the lead, forcing him into the canyon wall. As the pod broke apart, debris flew backwards, taking out the two pods directly behind it as well. 

Now was the time to move. Anakin dodged the crashes and entered the canyon in second place, behind Sebulba. Through the canyon Anakin kept a safe distance from the Sebulba and the massive engines of his pod. He knew the Dugg had it out for him and was unafraid to play dirty, but Anakin had his own set of tricks planned. 

His pod didn’t match Sebulba’s in size or sheer power, but he had him on maneuverability.  With the rest of the field trailing behind them, he knew he had a chance to catch his opponent in the labyrinth of caves that marked the halfway point of the course. The large engines of Sebulba’s pod gave him more power, but he’d be forced to downshift to maneuver in the confined space of the caves.  

Sebulba entered the caves first, with Anakin not far behind. The roar of the Dugg’s monstrous engines dimmed slightly as he slowed to keep his pod intact in the winding masses of stalactites and stalagmites. Breathing deeply, Anakin let his instincts take over and threw the controls forward, pushing his podracer into its highest gear. 

Few pilots would have dared to take the caves at full speed, but Anakin trusted his abilities. Whipping around the rocky formations within the ever tighter underground corridor, Anakin pulled up next to Sebulba, and then moved past, cutting in front of the larger pod just as they left the caves and entered a flat section of the course devoid of obstacles. 

Back in less treacherous territory, Sebulba brought his engines back up to full power and began to close the gap between he and Anakin. Sensing the Dugg’s gains, Anakin re-routed a portion of the power from his repulsorlifts to the engines. His pod dipped lower to the ground as his speedometer tipped off the charts. It was a dangerous move, but it seemed to be paying off as the distance between his podracer and Sebulba’s once again increased.

A red warning light began to flash, however, showing that the power cell was in danger of overloading. Anakin swore, cursing himself for saving the Jedi over the power cell during his salvage operation the day before. Without it, he’d been forced to refurbish the old powercell, and now it was going to cost him. He throttled down ever so slightly and the warning light went out, but Sebulba was now catching up, fast. 

Unable to push the speed of his pod any further without risking a complete loss of power, Anakin was forced to watch as his opponent zoomed around him, retaking the lead as they entered the second canyon. If he was going to beat Sebulba, he would need a different strategy. 

Eyeing a service ramp up ahead, Anakin veered off course, shooting up the ramp and high into the air, then plummeting back down towards the canyon. Sebulba seemed to have eased off, convinced his opponent was out of the race. His mistake. Anakin brought the engines back up to full power as he pulled sharply up out of his dive right in front of Sebulba. In the narrow confines of the canyon, the Dugg couldn’t pass him. 

To Anakin’s surprise, however, Sebulba didn’t seem to have passing on his mind. Instead, the Dugg was moving ever closer to Anakin’s smaller pod. Anakin could hear the sizzle of his opponent’s power coupling drawing closer and closer. Taking a split second to look behind him, Anakin realized Sebulba was actually trying to draw him into the unstable arcs of electricity, an act that would certainly put an end to this pod race, and possibly to his life. Still locked in the canyon, Anakin had nowhere to go. 

Thinking quickly, he reached down and pulled a short-bladed vibroknife out of the sheath strapped around his lower leg. If Sebulba wanted this to get messy, Anakin would oblige him. He dropped the power on the repulsor lifts yet again, such that the pod was skimming within inches of the sandy surface below. With Anakin’s podracer riding so low to the ground and Sebulba overtaking him, the Dugg’s engines were soon positioned above Anakin’s head. 

Anakin held his position, steering expertly through the final turns of the canyon, waiting for the right moment. As the end of the canyon came into view, Anakin pushed off with his legs, giving himself just enough reach to jam the vibroknife into the power coupling output above his head. The purple arcs of electricity flickered for a moment, and then went out. 

Without the power coupling, Sebulba’s engines no longer operated together and began to veer off in different directions. The right engine dropped down, headed straight for Anakin who brought his repulsors back up to full thrust and swerved out the way, narrowly missing being smashed by the huge engine as it impacted the ground and exploded. Anakin shot out of the canyon in a ball of fire, allowing himself to turn for just a moment to watch Sebulba’s engineless pod skid out into the desert with the cursing Dugg still strapped inside it. 

*******

Obi-Wan cruised towards the hangars on his speeder bike, keeping a wary eye out for the bounty hunters. The streets on this side of town were eerily quiet. Apparently the entire settlement was at the arena for whatever event was taking place. Obi-Wan didn’t like it, as it meant he had very little cover. He had considered ditching the bike, but speed was of the essence now. 

As he came around a corner, a blaster bolt zipped over his head, and he saw three of his pursuers at the end of the lane to his left. Cursing, Obi-Wan took off at a faster pace, zig-zagging through the streets, trying to shake his pursuers. Kenobi took advantage of the open streets to speed up. 

The settlement wasn’t all that large, and he soon came to the other side of it, exiting the maze of buildings and reentering open territory. Ahead he could see salt flats and a series of rocky outcroppings. Beyond that were a number of twisting canyons. As he squinted into the distance he saw a series of fast moving blurs headed towards the canyons.  _ Podracers _ , he thought,  _ of course _ . 

The mad sport of podracing was exactly the kind of suicidal activity one would find on this backwater planet. The canyons could provide him with cover, but Obi-Wan knew it would be exceedingly dangerous to fly his much slower speeder bike onto the course. As another blaster bolt clipped his stabilizer, he realized he didn’t have much of a choice. Revving his engines, he made for the race course. 

*******

Anakin whooped with elation as he headed for the grandstand and the end of the first lap. With Sebulba out of the picture, his lead over the field was enormous. It would be virtually impossible for anyone to catch him now. The engines whined as he took a sharp turn into the grandstand, enjoying the roar of the crowd as he whipped around the arena and surged forward out onto the salt flats. 

From out of nowhere, a speeder bike cut across his path. Instinctually, Anakin slammed his brakes and swerved wildly to miss it, sending his pod rocketing off the course and out over the salt flats, straight into the line of fire of the large group of speeder bike’s pursuing the maniac who had just crossed in front of him. A series of blaster bolts exploded violently against his left engine. He watched in horror as the power reading on the engine dropped to zero. 

“Oh-no. No, no, no!” Anakin refused to believe what was happening as his podracer began to go wildly off course, headed towards the rocky outcroppings on the edge of the race track. Frantic, he tried desperately to bring the damaged engine back online, but his efforts were not rewarded. 

Flames licked at his face over the windshield as the damaged engine erupted in fire. He had to stop the pod before things got worse. Trying the air brakes, Anakin realized they’d been melted down in the intense heat of the engine fire. This wasn’t just about losing the race anymore, he would be fortunate to come out of this one alive. If he kept going like this he was either going to crash or the pod would explode. 

Doing his best to calm his mind, he cinched his safety belt tighter and grasped the controls firmly with one hand, steering towards the open land of the salt flats. Then, with his free hand, he cut all power to the pod. 

Suddenly deprived of power, the pod dropped the short distance to the ground, skidding and bouncing across the salt flats. Anakin held on for dear life, knowing that he had lost any ability to control the vehicle by cutting the power. The damaged left engine broke away from the pod and hurtled overhead, smashing the top of the windshield and missing Anakin by mere inches as he ducked out of the way. 

Unbalanced, the podracer careened sideways and caught on a small rock outcropping, sending it into a violent roll along the cracked earth of the salt flats. Anakin watched the nauseating alteration between brown earth and blue sky as the pod flipped again and again. He squeezed his eyes shut to block out the spinning world around him, expecting his life to end in a fiery explosion at any moment. 

The pod stopped with a jarring thud, throwing Anakin hard against his restraints. He opened his eyes, marveling at the fact that he was still alive. The pod was positioned on its side, wedged against an outcropping of rocks, such that Anakin was partially hanging out of it. He hit the release on his safety belt and fell out of the pod, landing on his hands and knees, choking on the settling dust all around him. 

Pulling off his helmet and goggles, he used his sleeve to wipe some of the dirt and dust from his face. When he pulled his hand away there was a touch of blood on his sleeve. His lip was tender, he must have cut it in the crash. By some miracle that seemed to be the worst of it, apart from the whiplash in his neck. 

His pod, however, was  a different story. He stood, surveying the damage to the once beautiful machine he had spent the last year building from the ground up. All his work, now turned into a smoldering pile of charred metal and wires. His fear during the crash was quickly replaced with anger as he looked over the remains of his podracer strewn across the salt flats. Far in the distance he could see the remaining competitors completing another circuit. He had failed. 

In a rage, he hurled his helmet at the wreckage, letting out an animal scream of frustration that echoed through the rocks around him, but the reverberating sound of his own anger was soon replaced by something else. The dull hum of approaching speeder engines. Anakin looked up, watching as the group of speeders that had fire on him turned, circling back over the flats. He took his blaster from its holster, gripping it tightly. 

He stood before his disintegrated podracer, blaster in hand, as the speeders approached. Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen speeders and speeder bikes all told, many with multiple riders. As they got closer, Anakin recognized the old Bothan, Vikrum. 

If Vikrum’s gang intended to kill him, they would have little trouble. He had some skill in combat, but not enough to fight off this many opponents. However, as Vikrum pulled up his speeder bike and dismounted, Anakin had the sense the old bounty hunter had other plans. Still, he kept a good grip on his blaster. 

“Where’s the Jedi?” Vikrum demanded, brandishing his blaster rifle wildly as he approached Anakin, while his crew gathered around him. 

“What?” Anakin asked, surprised by the question. 

“The Jedi your mother sold to us! Kenobi! The one who just flew straight onto the race course, the mad fool!” Anakin felt twin surges of relief and anger. So the Jedi had escaped Vikrum and his crew after all, but he had also just cost Anakin his victory. And now he was the one facing down a gang of angry bounty hunters. Where had the Jedi disappeared to?

“I don’t know anything about it,” he said quickly, but Vikrum wasn’t buying it. 

“I’m about to lose my patience with you, boy,” the Bothan snarled, taking aim at Anakin’s chest to place additional emphasis on his words. “I don’t know what kind of elaborate games you’re playing, but I’ve had enough!”

“Do you really think I crashed on purpose? To help the Jedi? That’s madness,” Anakin said, his frustration building.

“Yes, just the kind of mad thing you Skywalkers would do.” Vikrum jabbed his rifle in the direction of Anakin’s belt. “Besides, you have the lightsaber. Now where is the Jedi?” 

“Right here,” a crisp, Coruscanti accent said from the rocky outcropping behind Anakin and the destroyed wreckage of the pod. Anakin spun around to see Kenobi standing there, boldly staring down the bounty hunters. 

“Sola double-crossed us, treacherous witch!” Vikrum growled in frustration. “The Skywalkers are in league with the Jedi! Kill them!” Anakin dove behind the wreckage of his pod as the band of bounty hunters opened fire. 

He removed his blaster from its holster, prepared to hold them off as long as he could. Peaking up over the pod, he squeezed off a few shots. At least one of his blaster bolts found their mark, evidenced by the scream of pain he heard as he ducked back down behind the pod. Preparing to fire again, he was startled to hear a voice behind him. 

“I believe you have something that belongs to me.” Anakin jumped at the sound of the voice, and turned to see the Obi-Wan Kenobi kneeling beside him. 

“What?” Anakin asked, rumpling his brow in confusion. Kenobi pointed to Anakin’s utility belt and the lightsaber that still hung there. “Right. Here, take it!” He unclipped the hilt and handed it back over to its rightful master. 

A small smile appeared on the Jedi’s face as Anakin handed over his weapon.  “Thank you my young friend,” he said with perfect politeness, as though they were guests at a dinner party and not cannon fodder for bounty hunters. Then, he ignited the lightsaber. 

For a moment Anakin was washed  in the bright blue glow of its laser blade, but in the next instant Kenobi was gone, leaping over the pod to take on his pursuers. Anakin peered over the edge of the pod, watching in astonishment as the Jedi defended their position from the attacking bounty hunters. He propped his blaster up on the wrecked pod and began firing as well, backing up this new ally. 

For a moment, the bounty hunters appeared to be in disarray. Realizing they stood little chance against the Jedi Knight with their blasters, they fled back to their speeders. However, they weren’t going to give up just yet. Outmatched in small arms they may have been, but Vikrum’s crew flew on a series of highly-weaponized speeders. Those vehicles were armed to the teeth, and Anakin knew it. 

“Get down!” he shouted to Obi-Wan as the heavy blaster fire began to rain down on their position. Heeding Anakin’s warning, Kenobi bounded back over to Anakin’s side of the wrecked pod, ducking his head as the fire poured in above them. 

“We won’t last long against that,” Obi-Wan told him as they watched the speeders coming around for a second pass. Anakin agreed. They were in more serious trouble now, but he had a plan. He closed his eyes and focused his mind. His mother was on the  _ Outlander _ , and the hangar was not far from the salt flats. He reached out to her, calling to her through their connection. Whatever hurt they may have caused to one another the day before, he knew she would come for him. 

In his mind’s eyes he saw Owen pulling into the  _ Outlander’s _ hangar in the speeder, running up the gangway onto the ship. They were coming for him. When he opened his eyes, Kenobi was watching him closely with a peculiar look on his face, but Anakin didn’t have time to read much into it.  

“If you can buy us a few more minutes, I can get us out of here,” he told Obi-Wan, who continued to look at him in that strange way for a moment before nodding his head slowly.

“All right. What’s your plan?” 

“Help is on the way, but we have to hold them off until it gets here.” Another blaster bolt rocked the pod. “This thing isn’t going to hold up as cover for much longer. We can make a run for the rocks, they’ll give us better protection. They can’t fly the speeders into the outcroppings, no one on Vikrum’s crew is a good enough pilot. We can force them to stay on the perimeter where it will be easier to hold them off.” Kenobi listened intently, nodding as Anakin finished. 

“Yes, all right. Better to run together, I think. I will cover us as best I can.” 

“Okay, get ready then,” Anakin said, inching towards the edge of the pod as the speeders zoomed past, setting up to take another run at them.“Ready...now!” Anakin sprung forward with a powerful burst of speed, the Obi-Wan hot on his heels. Seconds later the wrecked pod exploded behind them, sending burning metal shrapnel into the air all around it. 

A sharp, smoking metal chunk landed just a few feet in front of Anakin, who just managed to leap over it. Two speeders skimmed the sand, blasting the ground near his feet. He didn’t bother turning to fire his blaster, it was better to simply focus on getting to the outcropping alive. Behind him, he heard the hum of the lightsaber and the sharp cracks as Obi-Wan deflected some of the laser fire away from them.  

They were within a few strides of the rocks now. A second set of speeders came around for another pass, lighting up the ground in front of them with blaster fire. Recklessly, Anakin threw his legs forward, sliding under the cannon fire and into the narrow space between two rocks at the edge of the outcropping. 

Kenobi took a different approach. Flipping forward high into the air, he sliced through the front-end stabilizers of the two speeder bikes as they zoomed beneath him. Both bikes entered dizzying tail spins, throwing their riders and then plummeting to the ground in a burst of fire and metal. Obi-Wan landed in front of Anakin, well within the relative safety of the outcropping, and almost immediately collapsed to the ground. Anakin rushed over to him. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, kneeling next to the Jedi. Obi-Wan’s eyes were closed, his breathing ragged. Anakin realized his hand was clutching his side, and he remembered the extent of the Jedi’s wounds. It looked like he’d picked up a few more injuries since Anakin had last seen him, as a deep purple bruise was forming along the man’s left temple, as though he’d been hit hard with a blunt object. 

“A little worse for the wear, perhaps,” Obi-Wan finally responded as his eyes opened. He appraised his young companion with kind, blue eyes. “And you?”

“Me? I’m fine,” Anakin said, surprised by the Jedi’s concern. Maybe he looked worse than he’d thought. 

“I’m sorry about your pod, by the way. It was not my intention to interfere with your race,” Kenobi said as he leaned against the rock, still catching his breath. Anakin felt the sincerity of the Jedi’s words. 

“If you help me get out of this alive, all will be forgiven,” Anakin said as blaster fire exploded the top of the outcropping above their position. Anakin and Obi-Wan dove deeper in the cluster of rocks, keeping close to the jutting formations to avoid the deadly speeders now circling the perimeter. Anakin dodged out from behind a rock and fired a round of shots at the bounty hunters. They moved back slightly but the fact remained that he and Obi-Wan were surrounded. 

“Will help be arriving soon?” Obi-Wan asked as he ducked out of the way of another laser blast. As if in answer to the Jedi’s query, the sound of an approaching starship began to drown out the speeder engines. It was the  _ Outlander _ ! Anakin could see the hodge-podge custom-built freighter gliding in over the salt flats, cannons blazing. 

“Come on!” he called to the Jedi, and started to climb up one of the taller rocks, trying to find a good position from which to flag down the ship. Obi-Wan followed. At the top of the rock they were exposed, but the bounty hunters were preoccupied with firing at the freighter as it bore down upon them. 

The ship swung around in a wide arc, coming back towards the outcropping, and Anakin saw the lights of the lowered gangway. Holstering his blaster, he leapt up, landing in a crumpled heap on the gangway. A moment later Obi-Wan landed much more gracefully next to him and grabbed his arm, dragging him into the ship. Neither of them noticed the thud of the tracking device against the hull as the gangway closed and the  _ Outlander _ sped off, headed for orbit. 


	4. The Outpost

**The Outpost**

Safely aboard the freighter, Obi-Wan helped his young companion to his feet. “Thanks,” the young man said as he accepted Obi-Wan’s extended hand and stood up. Looking around, Obi-Wan realized he had been on this ship before. A familiar voice addressed him from behind. Of course. He should have known.

“Well Kenobi, I can’t seem to get rid of you, can I?” The Skywalker woman loomed in the doorway, her blaster drawn. “Owen, get an escape pod ready, I think it’s time we said a proper goodbye to our Jedi friend.” 

“You can’t do that!”Anakin said, stepping between them. 

“Stay out of this, Anakin,” the woman said with a quiet intensity, never taking her eyes off the Jedi. “I’ve already beaten you once, Jedi, and I will do it again.”

“It’s all right, my young friend, I can defend myself.” Obi-Wan placed a reassuring hand on Anakin’s shoulder and side-stepped around him. He held his lightsaber in his hand where the woman could see it. She eyed it warily, her free hand hovering near the hilt of her vibroblade. “I understand,” Obi-Wan said, “that having me aboard your ship presents a certain danger to you. However, if you can give me passage to the Republic, you will be paid.” 

“I won’t be tricked so easily, the Jedi don’t believe in material possessions. Who is going to pay me?” she asked, her blaster still gripped tightly in her hand. 

“The Republic will compensate you for your efforts,” he assured her. 

“Do they pay as well as the Separatists?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. 

“I’m sure arrangements can be made,” he replied, his thumb on the ignition switch of his lightsaber. Her eyes locked onto his as she studied him. Part of her clearly wanted to fight, but he could sense that she was inclined to trust him. Finally, she broke eye contact and holstered her blaster. The tension in Obi-Wan’s muscles began to dissipate. 

“All right, Master Jedi, you have yourself a transport,” she said. “It would seem you’ve already met my son, Anakin, who serves as our navigator.” Anakin gave the Jedi a nod, and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘co-pilot’ as his mother introduced him. 

“And the other member of our crew is Owen Lars.” She gestured to the other young man who stared at him a moment with wide eyes before looking quickly away. “And I’m Sola Skywalker, captain of this vessel. Welcome aboard the  _ Outlander _ .” 

*******

As the adrenaline wore off, Obi-Wan felt himself weakening. His side was still bleeding profusely, staining his light brown tunic a deep, rusty red. He leaned against the bulkhead to keep from falling over.  Anakin grabbed his arm to help support him, but Sola didn’t seem particularly moved by the Jedi’s deteriorating condition. 

“Anakin, take our passenger back to the crew quarters and get him a bacta patch before he bleeds out all over my ship,” Sola ordered her as she headed back toward the cockpit

“I thought we were out of bacta?” Anakin said, swinging Obi-Wan’s arm over his shoulder to help the Jedi walk.

“I sent Owen to pick up a fresh supply last night while you were...out,” she said, fixing the boy with a stern look. Anakin held her eyes for a moment, but then dropped them down, nodding. As Sola moved off, followed by Owen, Anakin and Obi-Wan headed in the opposite direction. 

Looking around the ship, Obi-Wan realized for the first time what a mess it was. He hadn’t really had a chance to take in his surroundings during his previous visit. From what he had seen on the outside, it looked like the  _ Outlander _ had been put together piecemeal from portions of several ships. The weld lines that scarred the exterior were mirrored on the inside, holding together the hundreds of salvages pieces that comprised the ship. Cargo crates and spare parts littered the floor, stacked high along the walls of the corridor. 

“This is an...unusual vessel,” he remarked to Anakin as they entered the compact room that served as the crew quarters. The young man laughed as he ducked out from under Obi-Wan’s arm.

“You should be careful with what you say about this ship in front of the captain. She built this thing.” 

“Noted,” Obi-Wan said as he lowered himself once more onto the bunk where he had previously slept as a prisoner. “I’ve already been on the wrong side of her wrath.” 

Anakin went to a crate in the corner of the room and retrieved the bacta patch, bringing it over to Obi-Wan. “Then you know how charming she can be,” he said with a grin.

“Indeed.” The Jedi gratefully accepted the bacta patch, applying the healing substance to the wound in his side. “Thank you.”

“It isn’t enough to heal you fully, but it will help,” Anakin said, taking a seat on a nearby crate. 

“It will suffice for now.” Obi-Wan could already feeling some relief in the pain as the bacta took effect. “Tell me, do you know our heading?”

“An outpost, in the Alderaan System. Then on to Eufornis Major. You should be able to find transport from there back to Coruscant. ”

“The Alderaan System?” Obi-Wan asked, concerned. “But it’s controlled by the Separatists.”

“Don’t worry, we won’t be there long. It’s just a cargo drop.”

“A cargo drop for whom?” Obi-Wan wondered suspiciously.

“It’s not important,” Anakin replied with a small shrug. Obi-Wan didn’t press the matter. He knew the ship was most likely engaged in the illegal spice trade, but the galaxy was at war and the dealings of a small band of Outer Rim spice runners wasn’t worth the trouble.

“I understand,” Obi-Wan said, and Anakin nodded, turning to go but Obi-Wan had a few more questions. “Tell me, how is it you came to be in possession of my lightsaber?” he asked. The young man turned in the doorway. 

“I took it from you when Owen and I found your ship.”

“So it was you who saved me. Thank you, my young friend, I owe you my life. I suppose your scanners picked up my lifesigns?”

“No, they didn’t actually,” Anakin said.

“Then how did you find me?”

“Just luck I imagine,” Anakin said, shrugging.

“Luck...I suppose you might call it that.” Obi-Wan said thoughtfully. 

“What else would you call it?” Anakin asked.

“The will of the Force.” The boy stared at him.

“The Force has will?”

“Oh yes. And it is strong in your family, that much is obvious.” Anakin looked at him intently. Obi-Wan had the distinct impression the boy wanted to believe him, but couldn’t quite bring himself to do it. 

“You must be mistaken.”

“I don’t think so,” Obi-Wan said. “Certainly Captain Skywalker has been trained in the ways of the Force. Very well trained indeed.”

“What do you mean?” Anakin asked, his curiosity piqued. He lowered his voice as he continued. “Was my mother trained by the Jedi? Did you know her?” He couldn’t quite keep the excitement out of his voice at the thought. 

“No, I don’t believe she was trained by the Jedi.” Obi-Wan said. Clearly Sola had not shared much of her past life with her son. Anakin looked confused. 

“By who then?” he asked. But before Obi-Wan could say more, Sola walked into the crew quarters, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

“Anakin, go check on the inertial dampeners, I think one is malfunctioning and we don’t have long before we drop out of hyperspace,” she ordered, ensuring that the Jedi and her son could not continue their conversation. Anakin opened his mouth to protest, but his mother fixed him with a look that clearly meant there would be no arguing. “Now, Anakin.” 

“Yes, captain,” Anakin said with a sullen nod, exiting the crew quarters through the corridor. Obi-Wan watched him go, then looked back to Sola. She was clearly angry, but there was a trace of fear in her expression as well. 

“What have you been telling him?” she demanded to know, edging closer to the Jedi so that she loomed over him in his reclined position. “I don’t need you filling my son’s head with nonsense, especially nonsense about the Force. He’s plenty capable of getting himself into trouble, he needs no help from you.”

Obi-Wan sat upright, wincing as the bacta patch slid out of place. “You’ve clearly done your best to hide his abilities from him.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said guardedly, opening one of the storage crates and digging around in it, looking for something. 

“The Force is strong with him, as it is with you. I know someone trained you, that much is clear from our previous encounter.”

“That was another lifetime,” she said, finally locating the part she needed and pulling it from the crate. “I’m trying to keep him safe.” 

“Safe from what?” Obi-Wan asked.

“From people like you,” she replied with a snarl. “You and your Jedi Order, people who use those with his abilities for their own ends.”

“Is that what happened to you?” the Jedi asked quietly. Sola didn’t answer, but he could sense her rising anger.

“Like I said, it was another lifetime,” Sola replied sharply. “You should rest. I have work to do. I think your inquisition can wait, Master Jedi.” And with that, she left the crew quarters, leaving Obi-Wan with more questions than answers.

*******

Sola left the Jedi behind and returned to the cockpit. She was glad for the distraction of the cargo drop, the Jedi’s probing questions had dredged up a phase of her life she had left behind long ago. She pushed their conversation from her mind. She just had to get through this cargo drop and make it to Eufornis Major, then she could be rid of the Jedi and life would return to normal. 

In the cockpit she found Anakin and Owen preparing to dock the  _ Outlander _ with a port at the old outpost. She scanned the stars through the cockpit, but there were no other ships. This outpost had been abandoned for years, that was why her customer preferred it as a drop location. Still, it didn’t hurt to be too cautious. 

“Run a scan for other vessels, I want to make sure we’re alone,” she told Anakin as he maneuvered the ship into position for docking. 

“There’s nothing on the scanners,” Anakin replied, checking the readouts. 

“And life-forms on the outpost?” she asked.

“Nothing. Quiet as a tomb.” It was a potentially unfortunate choice of words on the boy’s part. Sola couldn’t shake her growing sense of unease. Something was approaching, something unwelcome and dangerous. They needed to drop the cargo and get out of here as quickly as possible. Obi-Wan joined them in the cockpit, leaning in the doorway, still holding the bacta patch to his side. With a slight thud, the ship docked. 

“Let’s be quick about this. Anakin, Owen, you’re with me. Master Jedi, I don’t think you’ll be much use lifting cargo in your current state, so you can stay here and keep an eye on the ship.” The two boys exited the cockpit, moving past the Jedi towards the cargo hold. 

“You trust me enough to leave me alone on your ship?” Obi-Wan asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“No, but good luck flying this thing without a co-pilot. Trust me, you wouldn’t get very far,” Sola said over her shoulder as she followed Anakin and Owen.

“Very well.” Obi-Wan replied, settling down into the pilot’s chair. Sola believed the Jedi probably could find a way to fly the ship on his own, but she didn’t think he was going to try anything. At least, she hoped not. 

She entered the cargo hold where Owen and Anakin were already stacking crates on a hoversled. Sola went over to the cargo hold airlock and opened the first set of doors. Stepping into the airlock, she punched in the code to gain entry to the outpost. The doors hissed open, revealing a dark corridor. She hit the panel to activate the lights, and a series of dim ceiling lamps flickered to life above her. Again, the feeling of unease washed over her. Walking back into the cargo hold she took the handle of the now-filled hoversled from Owen. 

“I’ll take this one. Load up the other hoversleds and follow behind me,” she instructed. 

“Yes, captain,” Owen said. She turned back to the airlock and walked through it, pushing the heavily-laden hoversled before her. The poor quality of the ceiling lamps gave the entry corridor an eerie feeling that did nothing to calm Sola’s nerves. It was cold inside, as the life support systems were kept running at minimum thresholds since the outpost was so rarely used anymore. She continued deeper into the interior, turning on lights as she went. 

Finally, she reached the core of the outpost, a central control room from which the various corridors radiated. She hit the lights and locked the hoversled in position. After a reassuring walk around the control room with her blaster drawn, she was satisfied that there was no one lurking inside. As she began to unload the cargo crates, Anakin and Owen entered, each with their own hoversled. 

“It’s freezing in here,” Owen remarked as he parked his hoversled and took a moment to rub his arms for warmth. 

“Everything is freezing when you’re from Tatooine,” Anakin remarked wryly, but he too was shivering. 

“We won’t be here long,” Sola said, doing her best to ignore the cold. “Hurry up with those crates and be sure to check them off the manifest as you go.” Sola pulled the last crate off her hoversled and stacked it with the others. Then it hit her. A sharp chill that ran through her very bones and had nothing to do with the temperature. She felt a familiar presence, filled with darkness and hate. A presence she had not felt since...

“Get back to the ship,” she said to Anakin and Owen, who were still unloading their crates. 

“What? But we haven’t even finished unloading,” Anakin said, turning to her in confusion. She grabbed his arm and pushed him towards the corridor. 

“Do as I say. Go back and fire up the engines.” He continued to look at her in confusion clearly about to protest again when the whole outpost suddenly rocked. 

“What was that?” Owen asked, his eyes wide. Sola felt the fear rising in her chest. Another ship had just docked. 

“Co...in...kywalk…” Obi-Wan’s static-filled voice suddenly came in through Sola’s comlink in broken fragments, but suddenly went quiet. 

“Kenobi?” Sola called into the comm. She waited a beat. Nothing. “Kenobi!” There was no answer. “We have to go.” She moved towards the corridor entry, ushering the two young men in front of her, but it was too late. She could hear the sound of boots coming from the far corridor. 

“Run!” she shouted. They sprinted towards the corridor as the control room erupted in blaster fire. Owen reached the corridor and crouched there, squeezing off rounds of laser bolts at their attackers. Meanwhile, she and Anakin were pinned down behind one of the partially unloaded hoversleds. Helmeted soldiers in the grey jumpsuits bearing the Separatist insignia swarmed into the control room.  Soon their exit would be cut off.

“Anakin, you’ll have to make a run for it. I’ll cover you,” she said, firing a series of blaster bolts over the top of a cargo crate.   
  
“What about you?” he asked, ducking out of the way as a blaster bolt ricocheted off a nearby control panel in a shower of sparks. 

“I’ll be right behind you,” she reassured him, “now go!” He nodded and took off running while Sola laid down a steady stream of fire. Anakin made it safely to the corridor entry and took cover with Owen, turning to fire and provide Sola with her chance to run, but she didn’t move. Anakin looked at her expectantly and waved her over. 

“Come on!” he shouted above the roar of the blaster fire. But Sola didn’t run. Instead, she took careful aim at the door controls and fired. The door to the corridor slammed shut, cutting Anakin and Owen off from the control room. 

She heard a series of bangs as Anakin pounded on the other side of the door, trying to reopen it. She reached out to him through the Force.  _ “Run, Anakin, please run!” _ The banging stopped. Either he’d listened to her or Owen had dragged him away. She didn’t care, what mattered was that he and Owen would escape. A blaster bolt whizzed dangerously close to her head and Sola ducked back behind the cargo crates. 

From the hoversled she pulled down one of the cargo crates and pried open the lid. Inside were several rows of small metal orbs nestled into packing foam. Smoke bombs. She grabbed one and lobbed it over the other crates in the direction of the blaster fire. A cloud of thick smoke poured out of the device, choking the air in the control room. 

Sola leapt over the hoversled into it, blasting away at anything that moved. She hurled herself toward the corridor from which the enemy soldiers were entering the control room and managed to hit the controls to shut the door before her attackers could get their bearings in the smoke. 

She blasted the control panel, giving away her position, and had to dodge behind a control kiosk to avoid being shot. She popped back up and shot at the three soldiers nearest her, dropping them each with a shot before ducking back down. There were loud clangs as the soldiers trapped behind the sealed door tried to get through. 

Suddenly, there was a tremendous explosion and Sola was thrown forward into the center of the control room. The world went dizzy for a few seconds and there was a strange ringing in her ears. She blinked rapidly, looking around as her vision came back into focus, and slowly got back to her feet. Near her a Separatist soldier was on his hands and knees, taking a little longer to recover from the blast. 

She heard running footfalls headed toward her from the corridor where the door was now only twisted and melted durasteel. Her attackers had retreated down the corridor to blast the door, but they were coming back now. Thinking quickly, she grabbed the still disoriented soldier next to her and pulled him up, holding him in front of her with her blaster to his temple. There was still a chance she could talk her way out of this. 

A fresh platoon of soldiers rushed into the control room and took up positions around the control room, their blasters trained on Sola. She looked at them carefully, trying to sort out who the leader was. As she looked at each man in turn, she was struck by something. Each soldier looked remarkably similar. No, not just similar.  _ Identical. _ But that wasn’t possible. Only the Republic had clone soldiers, it was one of their main advantages against the ragtag Separatists whose forces were mainly comprised of inexperienced volunteer fighters. 

Her train of thought about the appearance of the soldiers, however, was soon broken, as a thin man in an officer’s uniform strode through the wreckage of the door. The sharp angles of his face matched those of his carefully starched uniform. He, at least, was certainly not a clone. He surveyed the carnage around him for a moment.

“I admit I am impressed,” he said at last, turning his steely gaze on Sola. “You’ve single-handedly destroyed the better part of two platoons.” His accent matched that of a person from the wealthy Core worlds, but it seemed to Sola to be overdone, too studied and precise for natural speech.

“I’ll take the rest of you with me if you try to gun me down,” Sola snarled, still holding her hostage tightly. “Starting with this one,” she said, pressing the blaster of her gun against the soldier’s neck. The officer looked at her, tilting his head slightly, as though confused. 

“You seem to be under the misapprehension that I care about the life of a single soldier. Allow me to clarify.” He gave a signal to the nearest soldier and a blaster bolt hit her hostage square in the chest. Sola felt his body go limp in her arms, and she dropped him, stunned. These were clearly not normal Separatists. 

She’d had encounters with Separatist forces before and she had found them to be tribal and undisciplined, primarily motivated by anger and fiercely protective of their own, usually to the point of stupidity. Yet these men  _ were _ Separatists, she could see the emblem emblazoned on their upper sleeves. She raised her blaster, putting the officer in her sights. 

“Who the hell are you?” she demanded to know. He gave her a knowing half-smile. 

“I am here on behalf of an old friend of yours,  _ Sola _ ,” he said. She felt that same terrible freezing sensation that had first alerted her that they were under attack. 

“How do you know my name?” she asked, not quite keeping the quiver out of her voice. A fear that she had not known for many, many years was coursing through her body. Again, the officer smiled in response. 

“You already know the answer to that question,” he stated simply, then turned to his men. “Set weapons to stun. We want our prisoner delivered to Darth Maul unharmed.” As he finished giving the order Sola lunged forward, trying to grab him, but she wasn’t fast enough. Several waves of blue stun rings hit her simultaneously, and she crumpled to the ground unconscious. 

“Take her back to the  _ Menace _ and return to Alderaan,” the officer commanded.

“What about the freighter, sir? They are trying to make an escape.” 

“Deploy the fighters, they won’t get far. Shoot to disable, I want prisoners not corpses,” he ordered, and followed his men out of the control room as they carried Sola’s limp form back to the cruiser. 

*******

At first when the door hissed shut in front of him Anakin was sure it had been an accident. There was no way his mother had shot the door closed on purpose. But he knew better. Sola Skywalker was a dead shot. She hadn’t missed her target. 

Anakin pounded on the door, then bent down, trying to get his fingers under it to force it back open. He heard her voice in his head, telling him to run, but he ignored it. He felt Owen grab him around the chest and pull him away, and he tried to fight him off. 

“Anakin, we have to go! There’s nothing more we can do! We have to get out of here!” Owen shouted at him above the din of blaster fire still emanating from the other side of the door. Anakin hesitated a moment, breathing hard. But he knew Owen was right. Their best hope was to get back to the ship and figure out a strategy for a counter attack. He took one last look at the door, then turned back to Owen. 

“Let’s go,” he said, and the two young men took off running back down the corridor towards the  _ Outlander.  _ They climbed through the open airlock and into the cargo hold, and Anakin re-sealed the ship behind them. He sprinted up to the cockpit where Obi-Wan was still seated in the pilot’s chair, frantically trying to hail them on the comm. Through the viewport he could see a cruiser with a smooth black hull docked on the far side of the outpost. 

“We have company,” Obi-Wan announced unnecessarily as Owen and Anakin rushed into the cockpit. The Jedi got up to make room for Anakin who took over the pilot’s seat while Owen took his position as co-pilot next to him. “Where’s Sola?” the Jedi asked, realizing only the two of them had returned. 

“Still inside the outpost,” Anakin answered as he flipped on the navicomputer. The Jedi had had the presence of mind to start up the engines already. Anakin detached the docking mechanism and the  _ Outlander _ sped away from the outpost even as the cruiser began to lay on a thick round of blaster fire. As they pulled away he saw the fighters. A full squadron of Separatist tri-fighters was headed straight for them. Anakin turned to the Jedi. 

“How are you with a laser cannon?”

“I can handle it,” the Jedi responded. “Where’s the gunner’s well?”

“Left at the cargo hold,” Anakin answered, gesturing vaguely with one hand as he pulled the ship up sharply to avoid a barrage from the nearest fighter. Obi-Wan nodded and limped off in the direction Anakin had indicated. He hoped the Jedi was healed enough to do his part in this fight. 

Anakin threw the ship into a wild turn, moving under the outpost, trying to get a shot at the cruiser. He knew his mother was still alive, he could feel it. They must have taken her prisoner and if they had, she would be on the cruiser. He came up and around the lower section of the outpost, guns blazing. “Focus fire on that cruiser,” he told Obi-Wan over the comm. 

“Anakin, forget the cruiser, we have to get out of here!” the Jedi’s voice demanded through the comm, ignoring Anakin’s order and blasting away at the nearest tri-fighter. Anakin was about to argue when he saw the cruiser leave the outpost dock and begin to move away. If the cruiser managed to jump to hyperspace they would have no way of following it. Anakin gunned the engines, flying towards the cruiser at top speed, headless of the blaster fire around him. He had to catch that ship. 

The cruiser, however, was not the usual antique spacecraft that characterized most of the Separatist fleet. This ship had serious speed and firepower. As the _ Outlander _ approached, an intense volley of laser bolts battered the forward shields even as the cruiser began to move off, putting an ever wider gap between it and the pursuing  _ Outlander _ . Anakin rerouted power to the engines, risking failure of the shields to try and catch up. 

He could sense Owen’s intense anxiety as he watched the shield levels drop with each successive hit, but they were making up ground. “Come on-” Anakin said, to himself and the ship, willing it to go faster, for the shields to hold out a second longer. But it didn’t matter. He saw the glow of the cruiser’s engines intensify from a dim blue to a shining white, and in the next instant, the ship was gone. 

Anakin stared out the viewport, his eyes transfixed on the spot where the cruiser had disappeared. The engines idled as his hands slipped off the controls. He couldn’t believe it. 

“Anakin!” Owen shouted as the freighter rocked with blaster fire from the incoming fighters. At the shout Anakin came out of his daze. He flipped the switch to cut in the auxiliary power and angled the forward deflector shields, bringing the ship about. 

From the gunner’s well Obi-Wan now had a clear shot at the squadron of fighters. Two of the tri-fighters exploded as the Jedi’s laser’s found their mark, but that still left ten to fend off. The remaining fighters reformed, coming back around for another attack run. A heavy blast hit the ship and warning lights flared up on the control panel. 

“They hit the hyperdrive!” Owen said, his voice thick with anxiety, “And the navicomputer is offline too. We can’t jump to lightspeed.” Another series of blasts impacted the ship as the fighters passed over it. Obi-Wan managed to hit one of them as the freighter crossed below, but they weren’t going to last much longer against the fighters, the ship had already taken severe damage.

“Keep angling those deflectors, we have to hold them off.” Anakin threw the ship into a spiralling dive trying to out-maneuver the fighters. He knew it wouldn’t be enough. He was an exceptional pilot, but the tri-fighters were still faster and more nimble than a freighter, even a souped-up ship like the  _ Outlander _ .

“We’re not much better than sitting womp-rats out here in the open. We have to find cover,” Owen said, bracing himself against the bulkhead as another laser bolt rattled the ship. Anakin agreed. He scanned the stars. In pursuit of the freighter they had moved a good distance from the outpost, and it wouldn’t provide much cover anyway. 

“Run the scanners, see what’s out there,” Anakin ordered. Owen punched in their coordinates and watched as the computer began to display readouts from the scan. “Not much. We’re light years from anything except a dwarf planet, but we can’t hide there, it’s totally desolate, no atmosphere even.”

“Wait, which dwarf planet?” Anakin asked.

“Parvus. Do you know it?”

“I sure do,” he said, grinning and looping the ship around. 

“But it won’t give us any cover!” Owen protested as Anakin headed for the small, purple-grey orb in the distance. 

“When we get there, we won’t need a place to hide.” Anakin swerved to evade another volley from the pursuing fighters. He pushed the ship’s engines to full throttle, drawing power from all the other systems. He was willing to risk losing the shields at this point. If they didn’t reach Parvus in time, the shields would only delay the inevitable. 

The dwarf planet grew larger through the viewport as they approached, it’s dusty purple surface coming closer with every second. It was tiny by the standards of celestial bodies, but still had enough gravitational pull that a few stray asteroids orbited around it. As they approached, Anakin dove for the nearest asteroid, whipping around it, hoping to buy them some more time by dodging around the large floating rocks. If he was right, they wouldn’t have to wait much longer. 

“There are ships coming in!” Obi-Wan said over the comm. “Two cruisers and a squad of V-wing fighters.” Anakin breathed a sigh of relief. They were going to make it out of this after all. There was a deafening roar as one of the cruisers zoomed overhead, right above the cockpit, chasing down a Separatist fighter. 

Anakin throttled back as the newcomers took on the Separatists. They watched the enemy fighters disappear into fiery explosions one by one. Obi-Wan appeared in the doorway of the cockpit as the last fighter was destroyed. “Who are your friends?” he asked. Before Anakin could reply, a blast from one of the cruisers struck the freighter and the lights went dead. 

“They hit us with an ion burst!” Owen said, frantically trying to bring the systems back online. Obi-Wan looked accusingly at Anakin. 

“Perhaps they are not your friends after all,” the Jedi observed. Anakin didn’t respond. This wasn’t going exactly as he had planned. Without power, he couldn’t hail any of the ships that now surrounded them. As the ships closed in, Obi-Wan fixed an accusing stare on Anakin. “Those aren’t Republic vessels.”

“No,” Anakin said, not meeting the Jedi’s eyes. 

“They are those vigilantes from Alderaan, aren’t they? The Rogues?” Anakin could hear the frustration rising in the Jedi’s voice.    

“They got rid of the Separatists didn’t they?” Anakin said as he got up and moved past Obi-Wan toward the center of the ship. Above him, he could hear a clang as the cruiser, now positioned above them, clamped onto the _ Outlander _ . Obi-Wan and Owen followed behind him, looking up in the direction of the clamour now occurring above them. 

“They’re going to board us,” Owen said nervously, drawing his blaster. 

“Put that away, they won’t harm us,” Anakin said. 

“What makes you so sure?” Obi-Wan asked, incredulous. “The Rogues are dangerous. They may fight the Separatists, but they aren’t exactly friendly to the Republic. What makes you think…” Obi-Wan stopped short as realization dawned on him. “The cargo drop at the outpost. It was for the Rogues, wasn’t it?” Anakin didn’t answer, but Owen did. 

“It’s only business. We make the drop, they pay. We’ve never even met any Rogues,” Owen explained quickly. Sparks rained down from the ceiling panels as someone began to cut into the hull from above. “Anakin, we don’t know if we can trust them!”

“We can trust them. Don’t draw your weapons,” Anakin said emphatically, though he could feel his heart rate accelerating. 

Owen wasn’t quite up on all the facts. It was true, their dealings with the Rogues were supposed to be anonymous, shrouded in secrecy to protect them and the militia group. What Owen didn’t know was that, despite the agreed upon arrangement, Anakin had been in regular contact with one of the militia leaders for almost a year. Of course, that had been months ago now. He only wished they had parted on better terms…

A circular section of the ceiling panel fell to the floor as the shower of sparks stopped. Owen had holstered his blaster, and Obi-Wan’s lightsaber remained clipped to his belt, but both of them kept their hands hovering near their weapons as they waited for whatever was coming through the newly formed hole.

There was a scuffling sound from above, and then a single, small metal orb dropped down into the ship. Almost instantly the ship’s interior was filled with smoke. Anakin doubled over, coughing as he was forced to breathe it in. He heard boots hit the deck, but in the smoke he could only make out the dark outline of a group of figures dropping down into the ship and fanning out. A hand grabbed him roughly and he felt the cold metal of a blaster barrel against the back of his neck. Someone else removed his blaster from its holster. He didn’t struggle. 

“Turn on the ventilation system,” ordered the person holding the blaster to his head. He smiled with relief. He knew that voice. It was muffled by the cloth face cover his captor wore, but there was no mistaking it. “Get up and turn around, slowly,” the voice commanded. Anakin straightened up to his full height and turned to face the petite black-clad woman whose blaster was still pointed at his head. 

“Hello, Padme.” He grinned as he watched her deep brown eyes go wide with recognition. 

“Anakin?” She pulled down the black cloth covering her face. Her shocked expression quickly transformed into a wide smile and she threw her arms around his neck in a tight embrace. For a moment Anakin almost forgot there was anyone else aboard the ship as he hugged her back, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair. 

She pulled away suddenly though, her cheeks turning a slight pink as she stepped back. Her comrades had lowered their weapons. When she spoke again, there was suspicion in her voice. “What are you doing here?”

He was conscious of the stares of the others. “We were at the outpost, making your supply drop, but we came under attack.” She seemed taken aback by this, the surprise returning to her expression. She furrowed her brow in confusion. 

“Anakin...did you just lead a squadron of Separatist fighters to our patrol base  _ on purpose _ ?”

“Well, yes. I thought…”

“You are  _ unbelievable _ ,” she said, her voice brimming with exasperation. Any sign of the warm welcome from a few moments before evaporated. Anakin started to explain but she held up her hand to silence him and Anakin shut his mouth, afraid of making her angrier. Still glaring at him with her large, brown eyes, she hailed a comrade on her wrist comm. “Yeslin, confirm all enemy fighters were destroyed.”

A static-filled response came in from the comm. “Affirmative, commander. The freighter downed three fighters, we got the other nine. No transmissions were sent.” Anakin could feel the collective relief in the room with the news that no enemy ships had escaped, but Padme wasn’t quite satisfied. “Run a scan on this vessel for a tracking device.”

“Padme, there’s no way we were tracked, no one had a chance to get a tracker on board before we left Tatooine,” Anakin started to protest.

“Then how did they know where to find you?” she demanded. 

“I don’t know, but there must be another explana-” He was cut off as the voice on the wristlink returned. 

“Confirmed, there’s a small device on the lower hull, Looks like it was attached via a tracker gun.” Padme threw him a look. Anakin lowered his eyes, gritting his teeth. He hated it when she was right. 

“Blast it off,” she ordered.

“Wait, don’t!” Anakin said in dismay at her command, but a second later there was a loud bang and the ship rocked slightly. “This is my ship! You can’t just go blasting away at it!”

“I will do whatever is necessary to protect my planet and this militia,” she said, giving him a hard stare. “And besides, this isn’t  _ your _ ship. Where’s Captain Skywalker?”

“She was taken prisoner,” Obi-Wan said, joining the conversation. “There was another ship with the fighters, a cruiser. They attacked the outpost, took Captain Skywalker, and jumped to hyperspace, leaving the fighters to pursue us.”

“You’re a Jedi, aren’t you?” Padme asked, taking in his plain brown robes.

“Yes. I am General Obi-Wan Kenobi.” She nodded, but did not offer her own introduction.

“Tell me about the cruiser,” she demanded.

“It was not a make I recognized, but it had a streamlined black hull.” Padme’s face went ashen at the description. Obi-Wan continued, “I saw a similar vessel above Geonosis two days ago that proved instrumental in the destruction of the Outer Rim Fleet.”

“What?” Padme said, staring at the Jedi with wide eyes. “The Outer Rim Fleet...it’s gone?”

“Yes, two days ago at Geonosis. Has word of this not reached the Republic?” Obi-Wan asked, his face awash with concern. 

“The Separatists have been jamming interplanetary communications on Alderaan for years, so it’s hard to say what the Republic does or doesn’t know. But it is news to us.” 

“But you know who that cruiser belongs to? The one that attacked the outpost?” Anakin asked eagerly. 

“Yes, but we shouldn’t discuss it here. We’ve already lingered too long. You’ll have to come aboard my cruiser if you want passage to our primary base, I can’t risk giving you its location. Besides, I’m not sure this ship would even be able to make the trip.”

“I can’t leave the  _ Outlander _ ,” Anakin stated firmly, preparing for another verbal standoff. 

“We’ll tractor her into the hold of the other cruiser, she’ll be taken back to Parvus. Now, if you’ll follow me, I’d like to get out of here before we run into any more trouble,” Padme said, annoyance creeping into her voice. 

She nodded to one of her comrades who banged the butt of his blaster rifle twice against the ceiling and a moment later a rope ladder appeared, dropped down through the hole from the Rogue’s cruiser. Padme started up the ladder, and Anakin followed with Obi-Wan and Owen behind. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Obi-Wan muttered over his shoulder as Anakin gripped a rung to climb up. Anakin hoped so too. But there was nothing for it now. They would have to place their trust in the Rogues. 


	5. The Lost Apprentice

**The Lost Apprentice**

Darth Maul had never had much appreciation for the beauty of Alderaan. When the Separatists had occupied the planet three years ago they had taken the lavish homes and stunning views of the capital city of Aldera for their own, but Maul preferred to remain on his flagship when he visited the surface. He left the palaces and vistas to his officers.

Unlike the scenic planet around him, his ship offered no distractions, nothing to divert his attention. It was the place to which he could retreat when he needed to think, and at the moment, that was exactly what he needed. Things had taken a very unexpected turn.

Maul went over it again in his mind. A group of bounty hunters on Tatooine claimed to have tracked Obi-Wan Kenobi to an outpost near Alderaan, onboard a ship owned by one Sola Skywalker. She had not had a second name when he knew her, but there was no question that the woman from the outpost was the same one he had hunted for years. He had searched the galaxy for her until his master had finally decided she must be dead. But his master had been wrong. It turned out Sola was very much alive.

He had ordered Tarkin to bring her to him and destroy the Jedi. His trusted minion had failed on one of those accounts but that was little matter. Word had reached them that the Jedi was now among the Rogues, whom Maul knew would have little inclination to assist the Republic’s errand boy. Besides, the invasion was imminent. Kenobi would never get warning to the Republic in time now.  Sola was a far greater prize than one meddlesome Jedi Knight.

He consulted the datapad again, his eyes scanning the information his intelligence officers had pulled up on his long-lost comrade. It was so strange to think that the girl he had trained with, who had shown so much promise, had amounted to so little.

When his ship had first come out of hyperspace near the outpost, he had been stunned to sense her presence. He had sent Tarkin in first, not wanting to reveal himself  to her unless it was necessary. He had thought she might succeed in overpowering Tarkin and his troops, but the colonel had returned with his prize, rendered harmless by a few stun rays. It was all so... _disappointing_.

And yet, he was intrigued by something else. As he’d waited aboard the cruiser, he’d sensed something. He had felt the Jedi’s presence in the Force, so carefully controlled, but there was another presence, strong, raw, untrained, and intensely powerful. Now, scrolling through her file, his confusion was clearing up. According to the datapad, Sola had a son. Based on the birth record in the file, he would now be a young man. It must have been his presence that Maul had felt at the outpost.

On the console before him a tiny blue figure in an officer’s uniform sprang to life, breaking his train of thought.“ Sir, you have a request for contact. Private channel.” Maul nodded.

“Put the transmission through to me here and see to it that I am not disturbed.”

“Yes sir,” the officer said, flickering back into nothingness. A moment later, a new figure appeared, clad in a heavy cloak. his face obscured by a low hood. Maul knelt before his master.

“Rise, Darth Maul.” Maul stood, his hands clasped behind his back. “I sense a disturbance in the Force. There is something you wish to tell me.”

“Yes master. We have taken a prisoner from the raid on the outpost.”

“And?”

“Master, the prisoner is your former student, Sola.” His master said nothing. If he was surprised, it did not show on the visible lower-half of his face. Maul waited, anxious. Finally, his master spoke.

“So...the lost apprentice has been found,” he said contemplatively. He paused again, leaving Maul uncertain as to whether or not to continue. At last he decided to speak.

“Master, she might prove useful to us. Perhaps we could…”

“No.” His master cut him off mid-sentence and Maul immediately stopped speaking. “She is a traitor and has outlived whatever usefulness she may have once had.” There was a sharp edge in his master’s voice that Maul wasn’t used to hearing. “She must be dealt with accordingly.”

“Master, there is something else.” Maul waited a beat before continuing. “Sola has a son.” Maul felt the shift in the Force as his master’s anger was replaced with curiosity.

“Son?”

“Yes, master. He escaped the raid in which Sola was captured and is now among the Rogues. The Force is unusually strong with him.” Maul took a breath. He wasn’t sure how his master would react to the suggestion he was about to make. “I believe I can use Sola to set a trap for him.”

“You believe that he can be turned?”

“He is young, reckless, full of anger. With the right encouragement, I have no doubt he would embrace the power of the dark side.” The silence in the room was thick. At last, his master spoke.

“Set your trap. He may prove to be a powerful ally. Once he has been captured proceed with the invasion and bring the boy before me. As for Sola, see to it she is delivered alive. I will deal with her myself.”

“Yes master,” Maul said, bowing.

“Do not fail me, Darth Maul,” he said, and then the cloaked figure vanished, leaving Maul staring to an empty holoprojector. He had dealt with the master, now it was time to pay a visit to the apprentice.

*******

Sola awoke in a tiny cell, with the entry walled off from the outside by a glowing orange force-field. A tight, metallic collar encircled her neck. She reached up and tried to pry it off, but it wouldn’t budge. Her head ached, a side-effect of being stunned. She sat up, blinking in the dim light. She sensed she was not  alone. She felt the same familiar presence she had sensed at the outpost. It was darker, more hate filled, more powerful than she remembered, but definitely him. Then she heard his voice from the shadows beyond her cell, low and cold, just as she remembered it.

“At last we meet again.” A chill ran down her spine as a black cloaked figure stepped out into the light. It had been thirty years since she’d seen his face, but she would recognize him anywhere. The crown of horns atop his bald skull, the red and black zig-zags of his skin, the intense yellow eyes, and along his right cheek a long, thin scar. The scar was a souvenir of their last encounter. That was the day she had left her old life behind forever. Or so she’d thought.

“All these long years I’ve wondered what became of you,” he said, walking towards the cell. “You betrayed our master. You abandoned your training. And now, here you are, a lowly freighter pilot from a backwater world.” He stopped right on the other side of the force-field. “All your potential ... _squandered_.”

Sola didn’t respond, but she met his yellow eyes with her own fierce stare. He surveyed her carefully, no doubt noting the toll that the years had taken on her. He, meanwhile, seemed only to have grown more physically impressive, taller and more muscular than the boy she remembered.

“I confess I was shocked by what my intelligence officer found in your record,” he continued, breaking eye contact to look at the datapad in his hand. “To have once been the favorite student of the most powerful man in the galaxy, only to be reduced to a life of common thievery, pod racing, and spice smuggling. How far the favored have fallen,” he said with a sneer.

The anger started in the pit of her stomach and began to work its way up. She could feel her face burning red, but she stamped it down. He would be expecting her to lose her temper, and she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

“And, what’s more, to be the widow of a degenerate gambler. This _Skywalker_ seems a step down even for you. Beaten to death in a dark alley for unpaid debts. This is the life for which you forsook the power of the dark side?”

“You don’t know anything about my life,” she said quietly but firmly, keeping her eyes down. He had hit a nerve, a nerve that was still very raw more than twelve years later. In her mind she saw Calum Skywalker’s bloodied body in the dusty Mos Espa street, and the pain of the loss returned, undulled by time even now. In the distance, she could hear Anakin’s anguished cries, but she pushed the images from her mind, forcing her grief back down into the dark recesses of her spirit where it usually lived. She looked up. Maul was watching her intently. Had he seen what was in her mind? The idea of him invading her thoughts enraged her.

“You still have not learned to control your anger,” he observed coolly, watching her. He was right. Her rage was beginning to boil over. In her mind she pictured crushing Maul’s windpipe with the Force through the barrier between them, ending his life like she should have done decades ago.

But even as she pictured it she was assaulted by a bright flash of pain that broke her concentration. The power of the electric pulse that came through the collar around her neck was enough to knock her off the bench onto the floor where she stayed for a moment, on her hands and knees, catching her breath before she pushed herself up and returned to her seat.

“Did you really think I would be unprepared for your old tricks? You won’t be strangling anyone from inside your cell, I’m afraid. All the guards have been issued an activator. They need only press it at the first sign of trouble. I wasn’t sure it would be enough to stop you, but I see now that you’ve grown weak. If you had kept up with your training, I would already be dead. Certainly there was a time when a few squadrons of soldiers would not have brought you down so easily.”

“I was outgunned, not outfought. I’m not quite as spry as I was when I was sixteen,” she said cooly, even as she gripped the side of the hard bench of the cell to stop the shaking in her hands.

“You would not need to be ‘spry’ if you had better command of the Force.” That rankled her. When they had trained together she had always been able to control the Force more easily than him or any of the others.

“Take down this force field and I’ll show you I can still command the Force just fine,” she said through gritted teeth.

“You might have beaten me when we were children but things have changed. I am more powerful now than you could possibly imagine,” he said, his voice brimming with confidence. She laughed, shaking her head. He had never understood the game. If he had, he would have run too.

“You believe you have power? You are nothing more than your master’s servant. Disposable and replaceable. Hardly better than a slave.”

“Don’t confuse loyalty with servitude,” Maul said threateningly, stepping closer to the barrier between them.

“Oh, I don’t think I’m the one who’s confused about that. He’s using you, like he used all of us. And when you are no longer suitable for his needs...well, I’m sure you know what will happen.”

“We shall see,” Maul said, narrowing his eyes at her.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that it was you in the end. You were always more willing than the rest of us to lick his boots. What was the final test? What great feat did you perform to become the last apprentice standing?”

“I destroyed those who had proved less worthy,” he said cryptically. But she knew what he meant.

“So you killed them. All the others vying to be chosen, people you were raised with since infancy, you murdered them?”

“To kill someone in combat is not murder.”

“That’s a convenient way of looking at it,” she replied dismissively.

“Unlike you, I did not let sentiment cloud my judgement. I did what had to be done.”

“I should have killed you when he sent you to bring me back.”

“Yes, you should have done. But you failed, and now...here we are.”

“Give me my knife back and perhaps we can correct that failure.”

“Yes, your knife.” He pulled it from his belt, removing it from the sheath. The blade had an unusual pearl-like sheen to it, and the hilt was carved with symbols whose meaning had been lost to time.

“I always coveted this weapon,” Maul said, examining the knife. “The ancient blade of the Sith, their only defense against the Jedi lightsaber before they learned to craft the weapons themselves. It should never have been given to you. My master honored you with this knife as a sign of his favor, and you repaid him by running away. Now, it is in the hands of its rightful owner, the one who remained loyal.”

“That vibroblade belongs to me,” Sola said with menace in her voice, coming right up to the force field that separated them.

“Not anymore,” he said, grinning. “Though, I am almost tempted to return it to you. How glorious it would be to kill you myself.”

“Go ahead. This time I’ll put a scar across your windpipe instead of your face.”

“You remain arrogant as ever,” he remarked, taking her threat in stride.

“And you are still overly fond of drawing things out unnecessarily. If you’re going to kill me, just do it,” she said, extending her arms, offering him a clear target.

“Your time will come, traitor. But not yet. My master has requested that you be brought before him, but there is one more purpose for you to serve before you meet your destiny.”

“What possible use could you have for me?” she asked.

“The Force runs strong in your family,” he said. She stared at him, trying to sense how much he knew. She’d believed she’d protected her son by sacrificing herself to allow him to escape the outpost. Now doubt began to creep into her mind.

“What is that supposed to mean?” she finally asked.

“Don’t feign ignorance. You might have wasted your talents and your youth, but your _son_ …” Sola’s chest tightened as her worst fears were confirmed. Maul knew. He knew about Anakin. “I see a great deal of potential in him. So angry...so reckless,” he said, taunting her.

“Leave Anakin out of this,” she snarled, coming closer to the force-field.

“It is too late for that, Sola Skywalker,” Maul said, turning away. “The boy will come for you. And when he does...I’ll be waiting.”  


	6. Among the Rogues

**Among the Rogues**

Commander Padme Naberrie paced the cruiser’s briefing room as Obi-Wan recounted the full details of the battle above Geonosis. Everything the Jedi said only stoked the feeling of dread that had been building in her mind since the Separatists had begun to bulk up their forces on Alderaan several months before.

“Your clones turned on you? But...how is that possible?” Padme asked in disbelief. Her mind was reeling at the news the Jedi brought from the Outer Rim. 

“I don’t know,” the Jedi said, shaking his head.

“This is grave news,” Padme said, resuming her pacing.

“Earlier when I described the ship that arrived at the battle before the clones went haywire, you seemed to recognize it.”

“Yes, I’m afraid I did. I believe the ship you saw was part of the fleet that belongs to Darth Maul.”

“I thought Maul was just a legend. Something the Separatists dreamed up as a scare tactic,” Anakin interjected. 

“I assure you, he is all too real,” Padme said. “I have seen him myself.”

“You are certain he styles himself as Darth Maul? After the manner of the Sith of old?” Obi-Wan asked, stroking his beard in thought. 

“Yes,” Padme answered.

“Who are the Sith?” Owen asked, perplexed.

“They were the ancient enemy of the Jedi, but they were all destroyed a thousand years ago,” Obi-Wan explained.

“Then perhaps this Darth Maul is only using the title to stir up fear,” Anakin reasoned.

“Perhaps…” Obi-Wan said thoughtfully, “Or perhaps the Jedi have made a serious miscalculation.” He turned back to Padme. “Either way, you must see that it is vital this information be brought before the Jedi Council. I must get word to them.”

“Unfortunately I don’t believe that will be possible. The Separatist jamming signal permeates the entire system. It flickers out from time to time but nothing has gotten through for weeks.”

“A ship then. I can leave for Coruscant immediately,” the Jedi said. Padme sighed. It wouldn’t be that easy.

“I’m afraid I can’t give you a ship, General. I’m not authorized to do that,” she explained. She could tell the Jedi was beginning to feel a bit exasperated. 

“I understand that the relationship between your militia and the Republic has been...tense, but we are on the same side,” Obi-Wan insisted. Padme gave him a long look before replying. 

“I don’t disagree, General, but I can’t give you a ship without the approval of Princess Breha. You’ll have to plead your case before her.” Obi-Wan hung his head in frustration,  but Padme knew he would have no choice but to agree. There were no other options available to him, except to attempt to commandeer her vessel, and to do that he’d have to kill her and her crew. Even in a time of war she couldn’t imagine a Jedi taking such drastic action.  

“Very well,” Kenobi said after a moment’s pause. “Will you take me before the princess?”

“Yes, that I can do.” She gestured to a nearby crewmember. “Agi, get a shuttle ready. I’ll be taking our guests to base myself.”

“What about my ship?” Anakin asked, stepping forward from the corner of the room where he and Owen stood.

“Captain Skywalker’s vessel will be safe on Parvus,” Padme reassured him. “I’ll make sure our mechanics begin repairs immediately so it will be ready for your departure when the time comes,” she added. Anakin nodded, though he didn’t look too pleased. Padme didn’t have much sympathy for him. Afterall, he was the one who had put her forces in jeopardy with his reckless tactics. He should be glad she hadn’t arrested him, or worse. 

“I need to prepare a few things, but I’ll meet you at the shuttle within the hour. Kilgore will show you the way.” She gestured for her other crewmember to usher them out. As the small group filtered out of the briefing room, Anakin lingered in the doorway. He clearly had more to say. Kilgore looked back to see if he should escort Anakin out, but Padme waved him off. 

“I’ll just be a minute,” Anakin said to his companions as they headed down the corridor without him. As the door snapped shut, he turned back to Padme. She felt her pulse quicken with nerves. The last time they’d been alone together, Anakin had asked her to run away with him. She had refused, and they’d parted ways. She’d assumed that parting had been permanent, and yet, here he was, standing in her briefing room.  

“Is there something else you need?” she asked him, not taking her eyes from the datapad in front of her. The formality in her tone felt unnatural, but she wanted it to be clear that she was not in a position to renew their romance. However, Anakin had something else on his mind.

“Padme, what about my mother?” he asked. Padme felt a pang of sympathy. She had lost her own parents during the invasion of Alderaan, and she knew something of the torture Anakin must be experiencing, knowing his only surviving parent was being held prisoner. Sympathy, however, was about all she could offer him. 

“I know her imprisonment must be hard for you,” she said, softening her earlier tone. 

“We have to get her out of there. You have to do more than just let Kenobi go to Coruscant, we have to rescue her,” he insisted. 

“We?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. He bowed his head and sighed deeply.

“I thought...despite what happened between us, I thought our friendship still meant something to you,” he said quietly. A fresh wave of guilt swept over her. 

“It does. Of course it does. But this is a complex situation.”

“Then you won’t help me?” he asked, anger edging into his voice.

“I didn’t say that,” she said with exasperation. She got up and stood at the viewport, looking out at the swirling purple dust on the surface of Parvus. “I know it isn’t your strong suite, but try to have some patience.” She said, turning back to him. 

“I can’t leave her to her fate,” he said, his blue eyes burning with determination. 

“Anakin, your mother is a strong woman, a true survivor. She’ll make it out of there.” She placed a hand on his shoulder in reassurance. “Go to the shuttle, I’ll be right behind you.” He nodded and moved to the door. The metal panels hissed open, but he hesitated in the doorway, turning back to say one last thing. 

“I am glad to see you again,” he said with a small smile. She returned the gesture.

“Likewise,” she said. Anakin gave her a nod and stepped into the corridor, leaving Padme alone, her thoughts more troubled now than ever. 

*******

As he made his way down the corridor towards the shuttle, Anakin’s mind was a confusing jumble of emotions. He was worried about his mother, terrified of losing her, but seeing Padme again...he’d forgotten the effect she had on him. The old feeling of pure joy that he had known during their time together started to return. But as he walked through the shuttle doors and was met with the scowling faces of Obi-Wan and Owen, the happy feeling quickly subsided. 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about her. I can’t believe it,” Owen said as he paced back and forth, shaking his head. 

“I didn’t do it to spite you, Owen, calm down,” Anakin said as he slumped down in the co-pilot’s seat, but Owen wasn’t done.

“Of all the customers we sell to, you have to go and get mixed up with the most dangerous,” he said, jabbing a finger at Anakin. 

“Padme isn’t dangerous,” Anakin insisted. “You should be a little more grateful, considering she and the Rogues just saved our lives,” he added. Owen continued to scowl, but didn’t seem to have a retort for that. 

“Tell me, if you were only making drops to the outpost, how did you come to know Commander Naberrie?” Obi-Wan asked, not quite ready to let the matter drop. Anakin sighed. He didn’t appreciate this interrogation.

“When we first started delivering to the Rogues we hadn’t worked out the outpost system yet.” He explained. “The captain had a conflict with a scheduled drop, so I made a run alone in a borrowed ship, directly to their base on Alderaan. I was grounded on the base for several days in a storm and the commander and I became...close,” he said, trailing off. 

“Ah. But less so now, I take it?” Obi-Wan asked. Anakin thought he detected a bit of a smirk in the Jedi’s expression. 

“I don’t see that it’s any of your business, but yes, the last time I saw her we didn’t part on the best of terms,” Anakin responded sharply. He was beginning to feel deeply annoyed by this line of questioning. Hadn’t he saved them? What did they care about his relationship with Padme?

“I guess we should be thankful she didn’t shoot you on sight then,” Kenobi said, leaning back in his chair.  _ Yes _ , Anakin thought,  _ that was definitely a smirk _ . Fortunately, before things could escalate further, the shuttle doors opened again and Padme entered the vessel. If she was aware of any tension in the room, she ignored it. 

“Gentlemen,” she said, taking the pilot’s seat next to Anakin. “Strap in and stay sharp, we are about to enter enemy territory.” Anakin turned away from Obi-Wan and Owen as they took their seats behind him, and fastened his restraints. Padme fired up the shuttle’s engines and detached from the cruiser, setting a course for the bright blue and green orb of Alderaan far in the distance. 

*******

As the shuttle approached Alderaan, the wide, grey band formed by the blockade ships began to come into view. Seeing the blockade always filled Padme with a righteous fury. It was so wrong, what the Separatist invaders had done to her homeworld, so unjust, and there was perhaps no more palpable symbol of that than the blockade. Alderaan was literally encaged by the enemy. 

“I’ve never seen so many ships,” Owen said, mouth agape, as he stared out the viewport.

“Nothing gets on or off Alderaan without the Separatists’ say so,” Padme explained as she maneuvered towards one of the checkpoints. 

“Then how are we getting through?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Fortunately our intelligence officers are very good,” Padme said, holding up a small chip and inserting it into the transmitter. 

“Identify yourself,” a voice said over the comm.

“This is the the  _ Timberline _ , requesting permission to land at Oro Village. I have three crew with me. We have food supplies for the area,” Padme said, lowering the register of her voice somewhat. 

“Transmit the appropriate permissions.”

“Transmitting now,” Padme replied, and flipped a switch next to the transmitter where she had just inserted the data chip. A few tense moments passed, but then the Separatist officer’s voice returned.

“You may proceed.” The comm transmission ended. Padme breathed a sigh of relief, the worst part was over. She flew the ship through the checkpoint and down towards the planet, headed for the mountains. 

“Oro Village doesn’t sound like a militia base,” Obi-Wan observed.

“It isn’t,” Padme said as she flew the ship low, just above the treeline. “But it’s the one of the few places that is close enough, and safe enough, to land. We have to walk to the base entrance from there.”

“So you never fly to the base directly?” the Jedi asked.

“We launch most of our ships from bases offworld, so no, not really. Only when need requires it. There are too many air patrols to make a habit of it. But I assume you are all up for the hike?” The three men nodded as Padme set the ship down on the small dirt landing strip near a small cluster of houses. “Good. Wait here, I need to make arrangements with my village contact.” Padme released her restraints and opened the gangway, where Nan Gosmer was already waiting for her. 

“Padme,” the elderly woman said, extending her hand to shake Padme’s. “It’s good to see you. We weren’t sure when you would be back this way.” She handed Padme a datapad. 

“Sooner than expected as it turns out.” Padme inserted a chip into the datapad with the shuttle’s falsified ship’s manifest, a precaution if any Separatist inspection squads should happen into town.

“I suppose you’ve heard the news,” Nan said quietly as Padme punched in her authorization code on the datapad. Padme looked up sharply. Had word finally reached Alderaan of the Outer Rim Fleet’s loss above Geonosis? 

“What news?” she asked.

“The Separatists...they’re mobilizing.” Nan whispered excitedly. “All their forces are being pulled into Aldera. The chatter on the comms is that they are moving out. At last!” Padme took in this unexpected news, trying to process it. If most of the Separatists were leaving, the Rogues would finally stand a chance of retaking the planet. It was an opportunity they had been waiting for for years now. But good news for Alderaan, Padme knew, probably meant bad news for some other unfortunate planet.

“Do we know why?” she asked Nan as she handed back the datapad.

“Invasion. That’s the rumour.” Yes, it would be that. Alderaan had never been much more than a staging ground for a bigger operation, or at least, that was what the intelligence officers believed. 

“Which planet?” Padme asked. Nan shrugged.

“Above my rank. I’m sure you’ll be briefed when you get to base.”

“Yes, I’m sure I will.” 

“Watch out for Separatists on the move toward the capitol, they’re everywhere,” Nan warned.

“Thanks Nan. We’ll be on our way directly.” The old woman nodded and turned, headed back toward the village. Padme walked back up the gangway where the others were now unstrapped and gathering their packs. 

“There’s movement in the Separatist camps, looks like they might be readying for invasion.” She announced as she collected her own things. Obi-Wan turned to look at her.

“Invasion of where?” he asked.

“I don’t know yet, but you can bet it will be another step closer to Coruscant,” she said.

“This complicates things,” he said, his eyebrows knitted together in concern. 

“Yes, it does. And it makes reaching base quickly all the more imperative, so we had better get a move on.” She swung her pack over her shoulder and headed down the gangway, followed by her three companions.

“Is it far?” Obi-Wan asked as they stood beside the vessel, waiting for the gangway to fold back into the closed position. 

“About twenty clicks from here,” Padme said as the gangway clanged shut.

“That doesn’t sound so bad,” Anakin said as they started off, Padme in the lead.

“No, except that Separatist forces patrol this area on foot as well as from the air. They know we operate in the mountains so they are always on the watch in the foothills.”

“How is this safer than just flying in?” Owen wondered, clearly nervous. 

“We have a better chance of evading a ground patrol. Trust me, it’s better to go on foot. Stay close, and keep your guard up. No talking. Keep your blasters drawn. If we encounter a patrol, do everything you can to avoid detection.”

“And if we can’t avoid detection?” Obi-Wan asked, his eyebrows raised. 

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” she said, declining to elaborate. She knew if it came to it, it was better to die than to be captured, but it was a morbid thought that needn’t be shared. At least, not yet. Shouldering her pack, she set off into the woods, gesturing for the others to follow.

*******

The trees around them were tall and dense, fully leafed with summer foliage. It was eerily quiet, and every rustling animal in the brush brought them to a nervous halt. It was slow going. They walked single file, Padme taking point, followed by Anakin and Owen, with Obi-Wan bringing up the rear. 

The Jedi tried to keep his head clear and focus on what he felt through the Force, but it wasn’t easy. First the Republic’s unexpected defeat at Geonosis, then an enemy leader styling himself as a Sith, and now plans for invasion? His mind ran wild with possibilities, each more terrifying than the last, but he tried to find the calm necessary to tap into the Force. He hadn’t sensed the ambush on the outpost until it was upon them. They couldn’t afford to be surprised again. 

The foursome trudged on in silence. After several hours, Commander Naberrie signaled for them to halt in a small clearing well away from the main road they had been hiking parallel to for quite some time. She turned back to the group. 

“We can rest here. Get some water, stretch your legs. We won’t stop again until we reach base,” she said in a hushed voice, taking a seat on a fallen log and opening her canteen. Obi-Wan followed her lead, grateful for the respite. His Jedi training served him well, but he had not fully recovered from the injuries he’d incurred over the last two days. A dull ache persisted in his head and the wound in his side, though healing, was still very sore and tender. He sat on the ground and leaned against a tree trunk, allowing his eyes to close, clearing his mind. 

A moment later he felt it. A disturbance. His eyes snapped open. “Someone is approaching on the road,” he whispered to Padme. She slipped down off the log where she’d been sitting, motioning for the others to take cover as well. 

“Kenobi, with me,” she said, motioning for Obi-Wan to follow as she took a pair of macrobinoculars from her pack and crept towards the road. They moved quickly, taking cover behind the larger trees as the went. A few meters short of the road, Padme stopped and looked through her macrobinoculars. “Damn,” she breathed as she focused in on something down the road. “It’s a whole company.” She turned to Obi-Wan. “We have to get out of here.”

“Agreed,” he said. Four against one-hundred were not odds he wanted to play today. They made their way carefully back to the clearing, where Anakin and Owen were waiting, crouched behind a large log.

“What is it?” Anakin asked quietly as they approached.

“Separatists. Lots of them. We need to move,” Padme said, grabbing her pack. The others picked up their gear and followed Padme deeper into the woods, farther from the road. No one spoke. Obi-Wan could feel Padme’s fear through the Force. She was obviously a capable commander, but she knew the danger they were in. Obi-Wan knew it too. If they were discovered by a full company of soldiers they would never be able to fight their way out.

Without warning, a blaster bolt exploded against a rock less than a meter from Padme. Everyone dove for cover. Padme knelt behind a tree and Obi-Wan crouched next to her, lightsaber in hand, but she shook her head, handing him her spare blaster. 

He understood. If the Separatists forces discovered there was a Jedi among them, they would call for reinforcements. He gave her a small nod. Anakin and Owen were positioned behind a nearby boulder, Anakin peering around to look in the direction of the shot. They all waited, but no more shots were fired. Finally, Obi-Wan broke the silence.

“Perhaps they’ve moved on,” he suggested to Padme, who continued to look out towards the road, blaster ready. She looked at him, shaking her head.

“It was a scout. It must have been,” she said. 

“We didn’t return fire. They may decide it was only an animal in the brush.”

“Not likely,” she told him. No sooner had she spoken the words than a barrage of blaster fire came at them. Obi-Wan pressed his back against the tree as the searing red bolts whizzed past, exploding branches all around them. 

Padme bravely peaked around from behind her cover and squeezed off several rounds. Emboldened by her example, Anakin and Owen did the same. Obi-Wan released the safety on his blaster and took aim around the side of the tree, targeting a patch of grey in the distance he knew was a Separatist soldier. He found his mark and the advancing infantrymen went down. But now he could see through the trees that there was a long line of soldiers headed for them, firing rapidly and coming ever closer. 

They were pinned down and vastly outnumbered. Obi-Wan returned to his cover and unclipped his lightsaber from his belt. If they were all going to die anyway, it hardly mattered if he gave himself away as a Jedi Knight. He fired another volley with the blaster, waiting for the enemy to get closer. Only a few more meters now. He shoved the blaster into his belt and held his lightsaber at the ready, about to ignite the blade. 

Suddenly, the firing intensified dramatically. Obi-Wan ducked down as the number of laser blasts ricocheting around seemed to double in an instant. It took him a moment to realize that it wasn’t all coming from their advancing enemy. Someone else was attacking the Separatists. He watched as the Separatist soldiers began to fall, and dozens of new arrivals appeared out of the trees, guns blazing. 

They wore no uniform save for the black face covering common to them all, and the insignia of the Rogues patched onto the shoulders of their jackets. Obi-Wan knew the Rogues were well trained for a militia group, but he suspected these troops were elite among the small band of fighters. They decimated the Separatist company with brutal efficiency, leaving none alive. Obi-Wan remained hidden as the clear leader of the Rogue company removed her face covering. He was shocked to realize he knew her. The tall, dark-skinned woman ordering her troops to gather the armaments of the fallen Separatists had once been a Jedi Knight. 

“Commander Lyosar, you’re just in time,” Padme said as she stepped out to greet her friend and comrade. 

“I would have hated to miss a good fight,” KeAnn responded with a grin. She spoke in a clipped Coruscanti accent not dissimilar to Obi-Wan’s own. Her smile faded a bit as Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Owen stepped out onto the road to join them. “Well Naberrie, what sort of trouble have you managed to stir up this time?” she asked, giving the three newcomers appraising looks. 

“These gentlemen bring news from the Outer Rim. The princess will want to hear it,” Padme explained. KeAnn fixed her gaze on Obi-Wan and he saw a spark of recognition. 

“Ah, General Kenobi. It’s been a long time,” she said.

“KeAnn,” the Jedi said, nodding slightly. 

“I didn’t realize you were already acquainted,” Padme said. 

“Certainly. Kenobi and I used to be part of the same club, before the Jedi Council tossed me aside,” KeAnn said, with just a hint of vitriol creeping into her voice. Obi-Wan ignored it.

“We need to get back to base, quickly. There are matters that must be discussed,” Padme said, quickly redirecting the conversation. 

“We’ll escort you.” KeAnn motioned for her troops to form up. As they did so, Obi-Wan looked at the dead Separatists littering the ground. He was struck by something. The two soldiers on the ground near him looked oddly similar. Neither was wearing a helmet, but another nearby was. 

He stooped and pulled off the soldier’s partially smashed helmet to reveal his face. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His eyes flicked back and forth between the faces of each Separatist soldier. All three were perfectly identical in every respect. 

“They’re clones,” he said, shocked, trying to understand how this was possible.

“Yes,” KeAnn confirmed. “They’ve had them for a few months now.”

“A few months?” He rounded on Padme and KeAnn. “So you knew and you made no effort to warn the Republic?”

“The Republic doesn’t even acknowledge we exist!” KeAnn spat back. “We don’t owe them anything.”

“This is vital information! They must be warned!” Obi-Wan said, raising his voice. Padme stepped between them.

“Enough! This is neither the time nor the place,” she said, cutting them both off. “Please, Master Kenobi, I understand your frustration, but we should not discuss it here. We have to get back to base.” 

Obi-Wan was still fuming, but he nodded. She was right. KeAnn gave him a sharp look, then stalked off to take up point for the march to the base. Kenobi fell into line beside Anakin as the group started off. Anakin gave him a concerned look, but Obi-Wan said nothing to him. He kept his eyes to the ground, focused on keeping his temper in check. He would not let his anger get the better of him. He was still a Jedi, after all. 


	7. The Separatists

**The Separatists**

Maul sat stiffly upright in his chair at the head of the table as the leaders of the various factions of the Separatists entered the briefing room onboard the  _ Menace _ . He disliked the communal nature of these meetings. He preferred to work alone, it was crucial to remaining enigmatic to those who served him. What was unknown, after all, was feared, and Maul thrived on fear. 

As the other leaders arrived he did not rise from his chair, or acknowledge their presence in any way save to track them with his burning yellow eyes as they each crossed the room to take their seats. He let Tarkin handle the niceties, which the trusted colonel did admirably, greeting each leader in turn. Soon, each chair around the table was filled, and Tarkin called the meeting to order. 

“Our victory at Geonosis was decisive and has proved that with the addition of the new clone troopers, our forces are all but unstoppable,” Tarkin said, still standing, but leaning on the table for an added degree of emphasis. “The Republic’s Outer Rim fleet was destroyed. The Core Fleet is spread thin, with only a small remnant left to guard Coruscant. The Republic has become complacent, they believe their capital is too deep in the Core to be threatened by our forces. They are wrong.” 

There was a thick silence in the room as the realization of what Tarkin’s words meant began to dawn on each of them in turn. Nute Gunray, head of the Separatists from Neimoidia, finally asked the question forming in everyone’s mind. 

“You propose to attack Coruscant?”  He asked, his confusion evident even through his thick accent. “But, the population on that world is so large, even if we take it we’ll never hold it. We have no way to control the populace.”

“We aren’t going to take Coruscant. We are going to take the Senate,” Tarkin said, leaning back from the table. 

“What?” Gunray’s eyes went wide. He wasn’t the only one shocked by the suggestion. Maul could feel the confusion and disbelief building. 

“The Senators and the Chancellor control the Republic’s military,” Tarkin explained. “A few in their ranks are noble, self-sacrificing civil servants, but most will bend easily when threatened.” 

“You mean we will hold them hostage?” General Grievous asked, leaning in, his long arms and clawlike fingers spreading out over the table’s reflective surface. 

“Precisely.” Tarkin nodded. Grievous leaned back again, shaking his large insect-like head. 

“The Republic ships will return to Coruscant and attack us,” Grievous said, immediately dismissive of the plan. 

“Yes, they will, but we need only hold the Senate complex.” Tarkin brought up a schematic of the Senate building on the holoprojector at the table’s center. “We have the forces to do it. The building is already well fortified, the only way to route us would be for them to destroy it utterly.”

“The Republic officers would never do that,” Gunray sputtered. 

“Exactly,” Tarkin replied with a small smile, his cheekbones reflecting the glare of the lights above.

“And even if they agree to terms, what will make them keep their promises?” Grievous asked, still incredulous. 

“Fear,” Maul said, joining the conversation for the first time. 

“Fear of what?” Asked Admiral Ningihb, the elderly leader of the Separatist group from Mon Cala. The Mon Calamari were divided on the issue of secession, but Ningihb was a naval hero and commanded a sizable force in Maul’s fleet. Maul disliked the Admiral for his lack of flexibility, but understood his value. The Mon Calamari navy was unparalleled in the whole galaxy. 

“Fear of an enemy who is unafraid to do what must be done to secure victory,” Tarkin clarified. “The war drags on because those in power have felt little of its effects. When the fighting is brought home, they will see reason.” 

“I cannot condone this action,” Ningihb said, slamming a flipper on the table. “To attack the Senate itself, a civilian governmental body, would be no more than an act of terrorism.” 

“If terror is what it takes…” Grievous said with a shrug. He clearly did not share the Admiral’s moral qualms. 

“We should limit our attacks to military targets. We won’t gain any support from this kind of extremism,” Ningihb insisted. 

“This isn’t about gaining supporters. It is about crushing the Republic, once and for all.” The Geonosian Archduke Poggle joined the fray in a series of clicks, rendered into Basic for the group by his translator droid. 

“Think of the cause, Admiral. Freedom from the constraints of the Republic is what we all want. We will never achieve it while the Senators and the Chancellor sit safe on Coruscant.” San Hill, the representative of the Banking Clan tried to assuage the Mon Calamari’s fears. 

“It will never work. Have you forgotten the Jedi?” Gunray asked. 

“The Jedi will be dealt with,” Maul said quietly. 

“They will not be easily disposed of,” Grievous said, acknowledging the difficulty. 

“I agree, the Jedi could pose a serious threat,” San Hill said, nodding his large head. 

“Leave that to me,” Maul said. 

“What can one man do against the entire Jedi Order?” Gunray asked, skeptical. 

“The relationship between the Republic and the Jedi has been strained for decades,” Tarkin answered on Maul’s behalf. “That is why all Republic clone troopers were implanted with an emergency protocol.” The confusion in the room was palpable.

“What? What are you talking about?” Admiral Ningihb demanded to know. 

“There is a code. A fail safe. If it is sent through the proper channels, the Republic clone troopers will turn on the Jedi,” Tarkin explained. 

“That’s impossible!” Grievous exclaimed.

“I assure you, it is real,” Tarkin said forcefully.

“Who gave you this information? What if it is false?” Nute Gunray demanded. 

“It’s a trap. It must be,” Captain Ackbar, Ningihb’s second-in-command, said in disbelief.

“It isn’t. It has already been tested. At Geonosis.” Tarkin let the news sink in. The stunned silence didn’t last long, however. The admiral from Mon Cala was still not satisfied. 

“This is madness, all of it.” Ningihb rose from his chair. “If this is your chosen course, you will embark upon it without my ships.”

“You’re self-righteous protests will not win this war, Admiral. You would be wise to maintain your loyalty.” Tarkin’s voice dropped to a lower register, thick with threat. But Ningihb ignored him, turning his attention instead to the Sith Lord at the head of the table. Maul turned his gaze to the fuming Mon Calamari as the admiral jabbed an accusatory flipper in his direction. 

“You have brought our movement to this. You let Tarkin be your mouthpiece, but this is your scheme in the end. You have twisted our fight for freedom into something else!” Maul said nothing, but rose from his seat, moving to stand toe-to-toe with the admiral. 

He loomed silently over the Mon Calamari admiral, glowering down with his yellow eyes. He could sense that Ningihb would never be swayed, and if that was the case, his usefulness had run out. Maul knew what had to be done. 

There was a snap-hiss and a terrible sizzling sound as a blade of red light emerged from Maul’s hand and ran through the torso of Admiral Ningihb.

There were several gasps, as the Mon Calamari’s body dropped to the floor at the feet of his second-in-command. Ackbar, mouth agape, looked at his dead comrade, then up at Maul. For a moment he seemed to want to attack the Sith Lord, but he remained seated, his large eyes blinking in disbelief at what had just occurred. 

No one spoke. The glowing blade of Maul’s lightsaber disappeared back into its long metallic hilt and Maul returned to his seat, reveling in the shock and fear that now permeated the room. A flicker of something passed over Tarkin’s face, but otherwise he betrayed no sign of emotion. 

“If there are no other objections,” Tarkin said, gesturing for two of the guards to drag the body out of the room, “the time has come to vote. All in favor of commencing with the invasion of Coruscant?” 

One by one each of the leaders raised their hands. The decision to invade was unanimous. Maul allowed himself a small smile. The Jedi’s day of reckoning was at hand. 

*******

The Separatist leaders filed out, many still shaking from the terror of watching Maul cut down one of their own. Tarkin clenched his jaw as he watched them go. He was barely controlling his fury. Maul’s abilities made him valuable, but he was beginning to wonder if having the Sith Lord around was worth the trouble. As Maul made to exit the room, Tarkin called to him. “Lord Maul, a moment.” Maul turned back, his face unreadable. Tarkin knew he should be afraid of Maul, but he had to make his point. Maul had gone too far this time. 

“Sir, the Mon Calamari forces are essential the success of this invasion,” Tarkin said, careful to keep his words from sounding like a reprimand.

“Yes, and I have ensured that now they will be part of it,” Maul replied stiffly. Tarkin’s temper flared at Maul’s absurd assurance.

“All you have ensured, my Lord, is that Ackbar will return to his fleet and take his ships back to Mon Cala.” Tarkin hated calling Maul his Lord, but he’d added the honorific to try to distract from his insubordinate comment. Maul, however, did not seem to share his concern.

“Then see to it that Ackbar does not return to his fleet,” Maul replied casually, turning to go. “I leave this in your capable hands, Colonel,” Maul said, and swept from the room, leaving Tarkin to fume alone. Tarkin jabbed a button on the comm and hailed his security officer.

“Arrest Captain Ackbar before he boards his shuttle and take him to the brig,” he instructed the lieutenant. “Inform the Mon Calamari fleet that their admiral and Captain Ackbar have taken ill and will remain on the  _ Menace _ for the duration of the invasion.” It would have to do as a temporary solution. But how long before the Mon Calamari figured out they’d been lied to? And how long before Maul proved to be the destruction of them all?

*******

In the small confines of her cell, Sola paced from end to end, trying to focus her mind. It was not easy. She had briefly tried to meditate, but it was a practice she had abandoned so many years ago that trying to sit in stillness and silence only left her mind more frantic. She needed movement. And so she walked, striding from one side of the cell to the other, focusing on the rhythmic sound of her boots against the floor.

She made a list of what she knew. Anakin was alive. She had tried to reach out to him through the Force, but he felt very far away. There was nothing more she could do for him right now. She knew she was on Alderaan. She’d figured that much out when she’d been transferred from the cruiser that had assaulted the outpost to this larger ship. If the ship remained grounded she might actually have a shot at escaping. Once the ship launched back into space, escape would become more difficult. 

There was a hiss at the far end of the prison block as a door opened, followed by the sounds of a scuffle as two guards dragged in a young male Mon Calamari. They threw him unceremoniously into the cell across from Sola. She saw a captain’s insignia on his uniform, and the emblem of the Separatists. 

The guards activated the force-field of the cell and returned to their posts, leaving the new prisoner to collect himself. He picked himself up off the floor and sat on the hard bench at the back of his cell, rubbing his arm. As the guards moved out of earshot, Sola drifted to the edge of her cell, trying to get the new arrival’s attention. 

“Pssst!” He looked up, seeing her for the first time. 

“What do you want?” he asked sullenly, still holding his arm. 

“You’re a Separatist captain, aren’t you?”

“I was, before they threw me in here.” His voice was thick with resentment.

“What’s your name?” She asked, trying to ease in with a simple question. She had to get some information if she was going to figure out a way to escape this place.

“Ackbar,” he said after a moment. “Yours?”

“Sola Skywalker,” she replied, giving him her full name in the hope of building trust. “What did you do to land in here?”

“It’s not what I did, it’s what I saw,” Ackbar said with a shiver of fear. 

“What do you mean?” Sola asked.

“Maul killed my commanding officer. I can only assume he doesn’t want me reporting that fact to the rest of my fleet. Not with the invasion about to start.” 

“Invasion?” Sola looked at him questioningly. “Do you mean we’ll be leaving Alderaan?” Ackbar opened his mouth to respond, but before he could reply one of the guards banged his baton against the side of Sola’s cell.

“Hey! Enough of that! Get back, no consorting with other prisoners.”

Sola put her hands up and backed away, retreating to the bench at the back of her cell. The imprisoned officer did the same, laying down on his bench and staring at the ceiling. Invasion almost certainly meant the fleet would soon be leaving Alderaan. Her window for escape was closing rapidly. If only she could get out of this cell, she was willing to bet that Ackbar would know the best way off the ship. 

She tugged at the electrified collar around her neck. She wasn’t going to get away as long as the guards could shock her into submission. She tried once more to settle into meditation to clear her mind. She needed to think of a plan soon, or it would be too late. If she failed to get out of here, her old master would have his revenge, but Sola Skywalker had no intention of going down without a fight.


	8. Divergent Interests

**Divergent Interests**

The path into the mountains was steep, and soon the small band left the forest behind, following a narrow, twisted trail deep into a maze of jagged rocks. Things were beginning to look somewhat familiar to Anakin. Though the only other time he had been in these mountains was in the dead of winter, he recognized enough to know they were getting close to Rogue Base now. He quickened his pace, maneuvering his way closer to the head of the column where Padme was. 

“Remember the last time we were here together?” he asked as he came up beside her. 

“Hard to forget,” she said, but she continued to look straight ahead. Apparently she had little interest in reminiscing about old times. Anakin ran his hand against the hard grey stone on the mountainside next to him. Despite the mild weather it was cold to the touch. 

“No snow this time at least,” he remarked, remembering with a shiver the whiteout blizzard that had trapped him here before. 

“And yet I suspect the welcome on base will be a bit icey,” Padme said, keeping her voice low. 

“Because of Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked, glancing back at the Jedi several paces behind them.

“Because of all of it. Breha isn’t going to be pleased I’ve brought strangers to base. But it certainly doesn’t help that one of them is a servant of the Republic. You saw how quickly KeAnn and Obi-Wan got into it.” 

“But we all share a common enemy. The princess and the others will put aside their feelings about the Republic to defeat the Separatists,” Anakin stated firmly. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Padme said, doubt filling her voice and casting a shadow over the certainty Anakin had felt a moment before. They continued on in silence.

At a signal from KeAnn, the group came to a halt. Anakin looked up. He knew where they were. They’d reached the edge of the energy shield that protected Rogue Base. KeAnn hailed someone on her comlink and there was a flicker as the section of the shield that crossed the trail was disabled to allow them to pass through. The small band bottlenecked at the shield, filing into a single-file column to pass through the small opening as KeAnn and another soldier kept close watch. 

Anakin passed through the narrow gap behind Padme, careful not to come into contact with the sizzling energy shield on either side of him. As the last of them made it through, KeAnn ducked through the opening and the shield was lowered behind her, crackling as it slowly closed, securing them safely on the other side. The most dangerous part of the road was behind them. 

The path narrowed further as it wound higher into the mountains, until it finally disappeared completely. Padme moved to the head of the column, leading them on a trail that only she seemed to be able to see. They marched on in a single line. No one spoke. 

A grey mist descended on them as the climbed higher and deeper in the rocky labyrinth, making it hard to see more than a few feet ahead. Finally, Padme stopped and the column came to a halt. Anakin’s legs burned from the hours of hiking.  Behind him Owen was bent over, his hands on his knees as he breathed heavily.

Up front, Anakin saw Padme pull back a patch of moss to reveal a keypad. She punched in a code and a moment later part of the massive granite wall in front of them seemed to split apart. A large chunk of rock was pushed outward from the mountain, leaving a gap big enough to walk through. They shuffled into the opening, entering a large, poorly lit antechamber with a pair of blast doors at the far end. 

When everyone was inside, KeAnn went to another keypad, and the rock wall slid back into place, concealing the hidden entrance once more. With a nod from KeAnn, Padme removed her glove and pressed her right hand against a scanner beside the blast doors. There was a clang as the massive metal doors separated and the antechamber was suddenly washed in light. They had arrived at Rogue Base.

*******

Obi-Wan’s eyes adjusted to the bright lights above as he and the others passed through the blast doors and into a flurry of panicked activity. Rogue Base was inside a huge natural cavern, subdivided by the militia into various sections for different activities. Militia fighters and droids rushed from one area to another, carrying datapads, stacking ration cases, checking and rechecking blaster rifles. At the other end of the cavern was a hangar, crowded with a hodge-podge collection of ships. The tense excitement in the air was palpable.

KeAnn said something to Padme that Obi-Wan couldn’t hear, then gave the Jedi and his companions a quick nod before heading off in another direction, her troops in tow. Padme turned back to them.

“Follow me, we need to see the princess.” She started off down the hall, with Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Owen behind her. 

“Padme!” Their progress was halted as a tall, dark-haired man called out to her and made his way quickly over to them. Obi-Wan thought the man looked vaguely familiar.

“Bail, good to see you back from the recon station.” She greeted him warmly, giving him a firm handshake.

“They’ve called everyone back in for the most part.” He cast a wary look at Obi-Wan and the others and lowered his voice, but the Jedi could still hear. “You’ve heard the news?”

“Yes. Or part of it at least.” Padme’s voice was quieter now too. 

“This could be our chance,” Bail said in an excited whisper. 

“I know.” Padme nodded. Bail looked as though he wanted to say more on the subject, but after another glance at Padme’s companions, he opted not to. 

“I’m leading the intelligence briefing for all commanders at oh-six-hundred,” he said, checking his chronometer. 

“I’ll be there,” Padme said with a nod, “but I need to see Breha first.” Bail once again cast a doubtful look on the three men standing behind Padme. He frowned.

“She’s in the Command Center, but your visitors will have to remain here until they’re cleared.” Padme waved off the suggestion.

“I can vouch for them,” she stated firmly.

“Commander, I really must insist…”

“I’ll take full responsibility for skirting the rules. Don’t worry, I’m not going to get you into trouble with Breha.” Padme put a reassuring hand on Bail’s shoulder. Obi-Wan didn’t think he looked very convinced, but he dropped the matter. 

“You’d better hurry then. The briefing will be starting within the hour.”

“I’ll see you there,” Padme said as Bail turned to go. As he walked away Padme turned back to them. “Commander Organa is ex-Republic Intelligence. He can be a bit...over-cautious.” Obi-Wan thought the observation rather rich coming from a person who earlier that same day had held them all at blaster-point, but he decided it was better not to say so. 

Passing through a narrow hallway, barely more than a fissure in the rock, the small group came to another set of blast doors that required Padme’s handprint to unlock. The Command Center was empty when they arrived, save for a solitary figure standing before a holoprojector, her head bowed before the flickering image of Alderaan as though in prayer. The princess wore her hair in a long and elaborate braid down her back. The elegance of the interlaced plaits contrasted sharply with the plain grey outfit she wore. She turned as they approached, her expression inscrutable. 

“Commander Naberrie. I see you’ve brought...guests.” There was a coldness in her voice that made Obi-Wan nervous. This was not a person who would be easily won-over.

“Princess Breha,” Padme said with the slightest of bows, “may I introduce General Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight, as well as Anakin Skywalker and Owen Lars. These men bring important news regarding the Separatists.”

Obi-Wan could sense an unspoken argument between Padme and the princess. Princess Breha fixed her commander with a look that clearly said she believed this was a waste of time, but she must have read something in Padme’s face that convinced her otherwise, because after a moment she turned back to Obi-Wan.

“Very well,” the princess said, clasping her hands behind her back, “I’m listening.”

*******

Anakin stood silently beside Obi-Wan as the Jedi related the strange defeat of the Republic’s Outer Rim Fleet above Geonosis, their series of misadventures on Tatooine, and the disaster at the outpost. When the Jedi explained the capture of his mother, the princess’s eyes snapped to Anakin. 

“Captured?” she asked, interrupting Kenobi’s story. “Not killed?”

“She’s still alive,” Anakin insisted. 

“How can you be certain?” the princess asked, narrowing her eyes. 

“I just know,” Anakin said through gritted teeth. Breha held Anakin’s gaze for an uncomfortable amount of time, but he didn’t look away. She finally broke eye contact, turning back to the holoprojector. The green light of the projection reflected on her face. 

“It isn’t standard procedure for the Separatists to leave their enemies alive,” she said. There was something vaguely accusatory in her tone. “What business does Darth Maul have with a Tatooine freighter captain?” Anakin was ready to jump to his mother’s defense, but Obi-Wan answered first.

“We don’t know,” the Jedi said. The Princess leaned heavily on the edge of the holoprojector, still facing away from them.

“So, Captain Skywalker is being held by the Separatists. Maul has not only amassed his own clone army, but apparently has the ability to turn the Republic’s own clones against them, and now another invasion is imminent,” the princess said, as much to herself as to the others in the room.

“Do you know the target of the Separatist invasion,” Obi-Wan asked. Anakin could see he was nervous. The princess turned around, once more facing Obi-Wan, and crossed her arms over her chest. 

“Intelligence gathering can be an inexact art, but our sources indicate that the Separatist fleet is headed for Coruscant,” the princess said. Anakin watched the color drain out of Obi-Wan’s face. Padme looked distressed too.

“Coruscant must be warned. They have no idea what is coming,” Obi-Wan said urgently. Breha shook her head.

“I’m afraid it is already too late for that.” She pressed a series of buttons on the holoprojector, and the Separatist ships surrounding the planet fluttered into existence and began to move. “Maul is mobilizing his troops, the blockade ships have begun to regroup into an attack formation.” 

Breha gestured to the projector as the ships reorganized. “Our intelligence suggests the remainder of the fleet will launch at dawn. Our interplanetary signal is jammed, no communications can get through. If you left now, you might give Coruscant a few hours warning, but the Core Fleet will arrive too late to save them.”

“Then the Separatists must be stopped before they launch the invasion,” Obi-Wan said as he looked at the holoprojector, stroking his beard thoughtfully. The princess looked perplexed for a moment, then one corner of her mouth turned up and she let out the smallest of laughs.

“Master Kenobi, if it is your desire for us to help you keep the Separatists here on Alderaan, you’ve fundamentally misunderstood the entire purpose of this militia.” Anakin shot Padme a look, but she was staring very determinedly at the ground. Obi-Wan turned to look at the princess, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“I’m sorry?”

“Our goal is the liberation of Alderaan,” Princess Breha continued. “The best hope we have to succeed in that goal is for most of the Separatists to leave and invade another planet. We have no intention of sabotaging their efforts.” Obi-Wan looked stunned. Anakin couldn’t believe it either. Would the Rogues really stand by and do _ nothing _ ?

“You can’t be serious.” Obi-Wan stared at the princess in disbelief. 

“I am absolutely serious. When the Separatists leave the planet we will be in a strong position to retake the capital. Our spies report that the Separatists will leave only a skeleton presence behind to hold the city of Aldera. If we can retake the capital, the rest of the planet will soon follow.”                       

“You would save your own planet and let the rest of the Republic burn?” Obi-Wan still seemed unable to come to terms with what the princess was telling them. Anakin, however, had moved past disbelief and on to rage. He clenched his jaw, trying to control his temper. He sensed that Owen was watching him nervously. He could almost hear his friend’s voice in his head, willing him not to do anything foolish.

“Alderaan has borne the brunt of this war for too long,” the princess told the Jedi. There was a hint of anger in her voice now, and it only became more pronounced as she went on. “We have endured a brutal invasion and three years of occupation. Our queen and a significant portion of the population live in exile, unable to return home. And all the while the Republic has been content to sit idle and let us suffer. No more.” 

“General Palpatine…” Obi-Wan started to say, but the princess cut him off.

“I am familiar with General Palpatine’s excuses for his inaction and I assure you I have no interest in hearing them again.” It was clear that Princess Breha was losing patience with the conversation. But so, apparently, was Obi-Wan.

“Whatever the general’s mistakes, your militia is now the best hope for halting the invasion of Coruscant, for saving the Republic!” the Jedi said imploringly. The princess appeared unmoved.

“I’m sorry, Master Jedi, we don’t have the resources to fight this war on two fronts. The freedom of Alderaan must come first.” Obi-Wan stood up very straight and looked Princess Breha square in the eye.

“Then you condemn the Republic to death,” he said quietly. The princess stared back at the Jedi unflinchingly. 

“If that is their fate, so be it. They certainly left us to ours,” she said quietly. Anakin, however, wasn’t going to let it go at that. The burning anger that had been rising steadily in his chest finally burst forth.

“You can’t do this!” he shouted, jabbing an accusatory finger at the princess. “Lives are at stake!” Breha fixed him with an appraising stare. 

“I suppose you mean Captain Skywalker’s life, specifically? That argument will do you no good here. Most of the people on this base have lost someone to the war. You have my sympathies, I assure you, but I will not risk my troops to save a single person.” Anakin wanted to say more, but Padme shot him a warning glance and he held back. It would have to be an argument for another time. 

Obi-Wan turned again to Breha, determined to try one last time to make her understand. “You must see that if the Republic falls it is only a matter of time before Alderaan will once again be subjugated. The Separatists will return eventually, and you cannot stand alone against them forever.”

“We’ve done it for three years, and we will go on doing it as long as we must. I am not sacrificing my people for a government that abandoned us, Master Kenobi.” Princess Breha touched a button on the wall console. The door hissed open and a young man entered the room, saluting Padme and bowing to the princess. 

“Gareth will see you to your quarters,” the princess said as she moved toward the door, gesturing for Padme to follow. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, the commander and I have a briefing to attend.” She left the room, Padme a few steps behind her. At the doorway, Padme turned back and briefly caught Anakin’s eye. She looked as though she wanted to say something, but she didn’t. Instead, she turned and followed the princess.

*******

Padme took a few running steps to catch up with Breha in the hall. She cast a sidelong look at her friend.

“That went well,” she said as they turned a corner into an empty corridor. Breha sighed and shook her head.

“You should never have brought them here.” Padme was stung by the reproach in Breha’s words.

“Anakin is an old friend,” she started, trying to justify her actions. Breha gave her a look.

“A bit more than a friend as I remember,” she said with a sly smile. Padme decided to ignore the remark.

“I was only trying to help,” Padme explained.

“It was a reckless move involving them, and you know it.” She and Breha paused to let a cargo cart cross the corridor in front of them.

“I didn’t know the Separatists were mobilizing until we landed,” Padme said as the cart cleared their path and they continued on toward the briefing room. Breha waved a hand dismissively. 

“It doesn’t matter, what’s done is done. We have to focus on the task at hand now.” Padme ran her hand against the corridor wall absent-mindedly. She didn’t want to start a fight with her best friend. Not now, not on the eve of their first real chance at liberating their homeworld. But she had been unsettled by the conversation in the Command Center. She decided to take the risk.

“Are you really prepared to leave Coruscant to its fate?” she asked Breha, keeping her voice low. 

“The Republic severed whatever bond was between us when they refused to protect us from the Separatists. We owe them nothing,” Breha replied sharply. Padme understood Breha’s anger and her reluctance to help the Republic. They had both lost so much to the war, and any real faith they’d had in the Republic had died along with the people they loved. But this wasn’t just about the Republic.

“Innocent people are going to die if we do nothing,” Padme said, voicing her true concern. 

“Don’t be naive,” Breha said with a touch of exasperation. “Innocent people will die no matter what we do.” That was true enough. But it wasn’t just strangers Padme was referring to. 

“We all have people on Coruscant we care about.”

“If that’s a veiled attempt to use my sister as a bargaining tool, it won’t work,” Breha said, her temper flaring. “Unlike your friend Skywalker, I am not willing to jeopardize thousand of lives for the chance to save one. Salma will weather the storm, as she always has.”

“I just want to make sure we’ve thought this through,” Padme said. Breha stopped, and pulled Padme into an open maintenance room, shutting the door behind them. She spoke with an urgency Padme hadn’t heard in a long time. 

“This may be our only chance to dislodge the Separatists from Alderaan. After the invasion you convinced me that was a cause worth fighting for.” Padme’s mind drifted back to that day three years ago when she’d refused to evacuate after the invasion, the day she and Breha had vowed to fight the oppression of their homeworld or die trying. “Now you want to abandon it?” Breha asked pointedly. 

“Of course not,” Padme said. “But what Kenobi said...that if if the Republic falls Alderaan will not be able to stand alone. He’s right, Breha. Even if we succeed in taking Alderaan back, what will prevent the Separatists from returning if they destroy the Republic?” The Jedi’s prediction had sent a creeping sensation of fear up her spine when he’d spoken the words in the Command Center, and the same chill passed over her now that she was repeating them. Breha looked afraid too, but she wasn’t going to admit it. 

“Once they are gone, we can fortify the planet, create a proper military…” she said, but the confidence had gone out of her words. 

“The majority of Alderaanians are staunch pacifists, they’ll never support that kind of militarization. You know that,” Padme said. She knew Breha had already been thinking it. It was something every native Alderaanian in the Rogues thought about almost constantly. The price of fighting back was the abandonment of centuries of tradition, a subversion of the moral code that generations of Alderaanians had sworn by. The very name of their militia was indicative of the choice they all made to live at odds with those beliefs. 

“We surrendered those ideals to survive,” Breha said. Her voice was very quiet. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t have.” Padme’s own voice was barely above a whisper. It was terrifying to give voice to the doubts that had plagued them both for years. “Maybe we’ve lost more of ourselves than we thought.” They both went quiet, not meeting each other’s eyes. But when Breha looked up at last, Padme saw her features hardened with resolve. 

“It changes nothing. Any attempt to engage the Separatist fleet would be a suicide mission. One Jedi and a couple of spice runners from Tatooine aren’t going to improve the odds by much.” Breha said, her voice returned to full volume. She reached out to open the door, but before she hit the controls she turned back to Padme, her expression once again clouded by doubt. “I am only trying to do what is best for my people.” Padme nodded. 

“I’m not questioning that,” Padme told her firmly. “I would never question that.” Breha continued to look at her intently.

“I need to know that you are with me,” she said, her hand still hovering above the door control. Padme put a reassuring hand on her friend’s arm and gave her a small smile. 

“I am with you. Always.”

*******

Anakin leaned on the wall outside the briefing room, tapping the heel of his boot nervously against the wall as he waited for the commanders to emerge. He was growing impatient. He had to talk to Padme, and soon. His mother, and the Republic, were running out of time. 

His mind was crowded with anxiety after all that had happened. He was still angry that Princess Breha had refused to help them, and angrier still that Padme hadn’t spoken up for their case. He knew she and the princess were close friends, but Padme had not exercised that influence in their meeting. Anakin imagined she had her reasons, but he had to ask her to reconsider. It was their only hope for rescuing his mother and protecting the Republic. 

He had never worried much about the Republic before, but after the disastrous audience with the princess in the Command Center, Obi-Wan had spoken with him about what might happen if the Republic fell and the power vacuum that would emerge. There was no guarantee it would be filled by the Separatists, who were at best a loose confederacy. 

Obi-Wan had made him see that the failure of the Republic could have dire consequences for the entire galaxy, even on the far fringes beyond its borders. For the first time, Anakin was starting to truly see the myriad ways in the which the galaxy was connected. He was finally looking beyond himself, and realizing there was a larger world. A world he wanted to step into. But all of that could crumble if the Republic did not survive. 

Anakin’s thoughts were interrupted as a door to the briefing room opened at last and the commanders of the Rogues began to file out. He watched them, looking for Padme’s petite frame and dark curls among them. She emerged, deep in discussion with Bail Organa. Anakin knew she wouldn’t appreciate being interrupted, but he had to speak with her. He dashed forward, tapping her shoulder gently. She turned and seemed surprised to see him. 

“Anakin? What are you doing?”

“Excuse me, my apologies commanders, but may I have a word?” 

“Yes, alright. Bail, I’ll catch up with you later.” She excused herself from the conversation with Organa and followed Anakin down a different, less busy corridor. “What’s this all about?”

“You have to talk to the princess.”

“Talk to her about what?” Padme asked as they walked.

“You know,” Anakin said, frustrated at her feigned ignorance, “don’t pretend you don’t.” Padme shot him a look. 

“If you are hoping for a favor, you’re off to a poor start.” she said, glowering at him. She pulled his elbow as they walked through the intersection of two corridors, “No, this way. I need to see to something in the hangar bay.” Anakin followed her, trying to keep his temper in check. 

“You have to convince her to stop the invasion,” Anakin said, straining to keep his voice even. Padme continued to look ahead as they walked. 

“Breha believes Alderaan should be the priority,” she said flatly. Anakin glanced at her. 

“What do you believe?”

“I am with the princess,” she said, but he wasn’t convinced. 

“You’re lying. You think she’s making a mistake,” he said accusingly. 

“I...think the situation is highly complex,” she said vaguely. 

“Then tell her that! She’ll listen to you. The Separatists have to be stopped, now, before it’s too late. It is the only way.” Even as the words left his mouth he knew he’d said the wrong thing. She rounded on him, stopping traffic in the corridor and forcing several people to shuffle awkwardly around them.

“The only way to what?” she asked sharply. “To save the Republic? Or your mother?”

“Both,” Anakin answered honestly. Padme looked at him a moment, then continued down the corridor, talking with animatedly with her hands as she went. Anakin followed. 

“Anakin, I’m sorry about your mother, truly I am, but difficult as this is, Breha isn’t wrong. Alderaan has been under the thumb of the Separatists for a long time. Most of the people in this militia have lost someone to the war. We can’t jeopardize everything we’ve fought for to save one person.”

“And what about the Republic?” he demanded. She rolled her eyes at him.

“You don’t give a damn about the Republic. You’re sticking with Obi-Wan because you know he is your best chance to rescue your mother. If it wasn’t for that, you’d be long gone by now.” She wasn’t entirely wrong. It was certainly how he might have looked at things before, but his outlook was different now.

“Maybe I’ve changed,” he said. She laughed at him. 

“I doubt that. You’ve never been very good at caring about anyone but yourself.” That stung. He did care. He cared a great deal, and always had, albeit about a limited number of people. But Padme was one of those people, and she knew it. That, however, was a different argument. He had to stay focused. This wasn’t the moment to drudge up the past. 

“But you care, don’t you?” he said. “Are you really going to let the people of Coruscant suffer and die?” She didn’t respond immediately. He knew he had hit a nerve. He could see the muscle in her jaw twitching. They entered the hangar bay. Padme led Anakin into a relatively deserted corner to continue their conversation. 

“I will do what is best for Alderaan,” she said softly. Anakin scoffed. 

“You are blinded by your loyalty,” he said testily. 

“This is my home,” she said emphatically. “Its protection is a cause I am wholly committed to.” Anakin shook his head. This was all starting to sound very familiar. 

“Of course. The cause. You’d sacrifice everything for your precious cause.” He was no longer trying to keep the disgust out of his voice. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. You tossed me aside in the name of duty, why should the Republic be any different?” Her cheeks burned red at his words.

“You wanted me to run away!” She hissed, clearly not eager to have their conversations overheard. “To abandon everything!”

“I only wanted to go somewhere safe, somewhere we could start over, away from this war,” he said, offering up the explanation she hadn’t allowed him to give the day she left him. “I wasn’t trying to destroy our relationship. You’re the one who did that.” She looked at him, appalled at the accusation. 

“That isn’t fair, that’s an oversimplification...” she stammered, but Anakin wasn’t finished. 

“I told you…” he looked around to be certain they were alone before he went on, “I told you that I loved you. I asked you to come away with me.” He was surprised at how angry he was, he thought he had put this behind him. Apparently not. “You could have just said no, but you decided we had to end everything, there and then. I bared my heart to you and you crushed it.” 

She didn’t say anything back at first. She looked surprised. It occurred to Anakin for the first time that she might not have realized how deeply she had wounded him. But if that was true, her next words proved she was in no hurry to assuage his feelings. 

“What’s done is done,” she said stonily, not meeting his eyes. She returned to their original topic of conversation. “I will not use my influence to try and change Breha’s mind. Alderaan has sacrificed too much already.” With that, she turned and started to walk away across the hanger. 

“You can’t hide behind your commitment to Alderaan forever,” Anakin called after her, to no effect. “I won’t give up. Even if I have to attack the Separatist fleet alone.” That got her attention. She turned back to him. Was that pity he saw etched into her expression? 

“You once said you couldn’t stand to watch me become a martyr,” she told him, brown eyes brimming with concern. “Be careful you don’t become one yourself.”


	9. A Damn Fool Idealistic Crusade

**A Damn Fool Idealistic Crusade**

Obi-Wan reclined on his bunk in the room he’d been assigned. His eyes were closed, but the sleep he so desperately needed eluded him. Nevertheless, he appreciated the chance to lie still, alone, in a quiet space. It was the first time in several days that no one had tried to kill or capture him. But his peace was interrupted as Anakin burst into the room, slamming his fist against the controls to shut the door behind him. Obi-Wan opened his eyes but otherwise did not move.

“She won’t help us,” Anakin fumed as he moved frenetically around the room.

“That is disappointing,” Obi-Wan said as he swung his legs down from the bunk and sat up. Anakin was still raging. 

“It’s more than disappointing, it’s unacceptable!” Anakin shouted as he kicked at the wall. Obi-Wan sighed. 

“It was always a gamble trying to secure her assistance. There is another way, we will find it.”

“How?” Anakin demanded.

“We must be patient, and calm,” Obi-Wan said pointedly. Anakin scoffed and turned his back to Obi-Wan. The boy leaned against the wall, looking out at the hangar bay from the room’s one small window. 

“I don’t see how that is going to help,” Anakin said, his frustration apparent. “We have to _ do _ something, stall the Separatists somehow, or…” Anakin’s voice trailed off as he stared at something through the window. Obi-Wan waited for him to finish his thought, but Anakin remained quiet. 

“What is it?” Obi-Wan asked, watching the boy intently. He could see that an idea was forming in Anakin’s mind. 

“That’s it.” Anakin said, more to himself than to Obi-Wan, but then he turned back to the Jedi, his face bright with excitement. “I know how to stop the invasion.” Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows. 

“Go on.”

“The alliance between the different Separatist groups is tenuous, isn’t it?” Anakin said hurriedly as he sat down next to Obi-Wan on the bunk. 

“Yes…” Obi-Wan wasn’t sure where Anakin was going with this.  

“Then let’s exploit that fact. It wouldn’t take much to start a fight between the different groups. If we can get one group to fire on another…”

“They’d self destruct.” Obi-Wan was beginning to feel a renewed sense of hope. “But how would we do it?” Anakin pulled the Jedi up by the arm and led him over to the small window. Below them the hangar bay was teeming with the business of war. 

“Look.” Anakin pointed to a small ship in a far corner of the hanger. “That’s a Neimoidian ship, a  _ Separatist _ ship. If that ship started firing at other Separatists, it would create chaos. No one will know who to trust, they’ll all start fighting one another.” Obi-Wan had to admit it was an inspired plan. There was just one problem. 

“What about Darth Maul?” the Jedi asked, turning away from the window and back to Anakin. “The whole operation is coordinated from Maul’s ship, it won’t take long for him to restore order.” Anakin frowned as he mulled the problem over. It didn’t take him long to arrive at a solution.

“We need to disrupt their communications, prevent them from sending or receiving transmissions. No one will be able to order a ceasefire then. But it won’t be easy.” 

“No, but there is a way. Maul’s ship is still in Aldera. If I can get onboard before they launch, I can destroy the central communication hub onboard.” Obi-Wan said. But there was one problem they hadn’t addressed. “What about Captain Skywalker?”

“She’s on Maul’s ship, I’m sure of it,” Anakin said firmly. Obi-Wan nodded. 

“Then I will find her, after the comm hub has been disabled.”

“Owen and I will commandeer the Separatist ship. We’ll rendezvous with you in the main hangar of Maul’s ship once the fighting starts,” Anakin said. Obi-Wan checked his chronometer. It was getting late.

“If I’m going to make it into the city in time I need to get going.  I’m sure I can stow away on one of the troop transports.”

“Go then. I’ll bring Owen up to speed,” Anakin said as Obi-Wan pulled on his cloak. “We won’t be far behind you.” Obi-Wan placed his hand on Anakin’s shoulder.

“Goodbye for now, my young friend,” the Jedi said. Anakin smiled and gave him a casual salute. 

“Good luck,” the young man said as Obi-Wan started out the door. Obi-Wan turned back.

“I don’t believe in luck.”

“What do you believe in then?” Anakin asked. Obi-Wan smiled. 

“The Force.”

*******

Anakin hurried back to his room, anxious to get moving. He was tired of sitting around waiting for something to happen. The time for action had finally come. He entered the room he and Owen had been assigned, and immediately launched into telling Owen the plan he and Obi-Wan had concocted.

“Owen, I…” Anakin stopped short. Owen was standing beside his bunk, shoving items into his pack. “What are you doing?” Owen looked over his shoulder at Anakin, then turned back to jamming another item into the near-bursting canvas bag in front of him.

“Packing.”

“What?” Anakin couldn’t understand what Owen could be talking about. “Where are you going?”

“There is an evacuation transport leaving in an hour, and I’m getting on it,” Owen said, fastening the clasps on his pack. “I’m going back to Tatooine and away from this crazy war.” Anakin went numb with disbelief.

“You can’t do that. You can’t leave now!” Anakin heard his voice rising. He took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. “Obi-Wan and I have a plan,” he said more gently. 

“No,” Owen said, shaking his head. “No more plans, no more schemes. I’m done.” Owen turned away from Anakin as he pulled the straps of his pack up over his shoulders. 

“If you would only listen to me…” Anakin implored him, but Owen rounded on his friend, his face red with anger.

“Anakin, we don’t belong here. Can’t you see that? I don’t know what you’ve cooked up with that Jedi, but I’m not going to die for some cause I don’t believe in.” The hostility in Owen’s voice startled Anakin. “There are enough problems at home as it is, I’m not going to take on the troubles of the whole galaxy. This isn’t our war.”

“Don’t be stupid, the war affects us all,” Anakin said. He had to make make Owen understand.

“That’s Jedi nonsense.” Owen said dismissively. “I can see what Kenobi’s doing. He’s playing you Anakin. He’s trying to convince you you have a stake in this war, but you don’t! We don’t!” Owen was shouting now. Anakin had never seen him so upset, but his patience was wearing thin.

“Have you forgotten that the woman who raised you is being held by those monsters?” he demanded of Owen. “What greater stake could we have than that?” Anakin asked, taking a threatening step forward. Owen sighed deeply, looking down at the ground. 

“I know you want to save her. So do I, but be reasonable Anakin. The entire Separatist army stands in the way. We’ll never be able to get to her.”

“It shouldn’t stop us from trying,” Anakin said through gritted teeth. It was taking all his self-control not to hit Owen square in the face. 

“How do we even know she’s still alive?” Owen asked quietly. 

“I know,” Anakin said forcefully. Owen shook his head.

“Anakin, it’s impossible.”

“So you would leave her to rot in a cell somewhere?” Anakin’s frustration boiled over as he shouted at Owen, and he leaned in, towering over Owen. “The woman who took you in when the sand people killed your family? She fed you, clothed you, employed you. And now you would abandon her?”

“Don’t you get it?” Owen asked, staring Anakin down. “She sacrificed herself for us at the outpost. She told us to run, she didn’t want us mixed up in this fight! She wanted us to escape and go home, not for you to get yourself killed trying to mount some suicidal rescue mission.” 

Anakin moved back. He hadn’t considered that trying to save his mother might be the last thing she actually wanted him to do. His mind was clouded by doubt, but his anger still burned white-hot, and it whispered to him that Owen was wrong, that Owen was afraid to do what had to be done. 

“You’re a coward,” Anakin said at last, his voice low and cold. Owen said nothing in return, but moved past Anakin toward the door. As he hit the control to open the door, he looked back.

“If you want to follow this Jedi on some crusade, go ahead,” Owen said. “Dishonor the captain’s sacrifice by getting yourself killed. I won’t have any part of it.” With that, Owen walked out, never to see Anakin Skywalker again.

*******

Anxious troops crowded near the large blast doors of the ground transport entrance to Rogue Base. Though the Rogues wore no specific uniform, Obi-Wan’s knew his brown Jedi robes would make him immediately identifiable. There was no time to find a disguise. If he was going to hitch a ride on one of the ground transports, he would need to be well hidden. 

He found a transport near the edge of the mustering area. Only a few soldiers were milling about near it. Obi-Wan stayed in the shadows, and reached out with the Force, toppling over a cargo crate several meters away from the transport.

“Tiero, Sigis, clean that mess up!” An officer shouted at the two soldiers nearest him. As they moved off to deal with the overturned crate, Obi-Wan crept to the open door of the transport and slipped inside. It was a bare-bones troop transport, without many obvious hiding places. Obi-Wan ran his hands along the sides of the vehicle. He knocked gently on a panel. It sounded hollow. 

He dug his fingertips under the panel’s edge and pulled it back. Behind the panel was a very narrow open space between in original walls of the civilian transport and the armored plating that had been added to its exterior. It was just big enough for someone slim enough to slide into. 

Obi-Wan’s head jerked up as he heard the sound of approaching footsteps. He squeezed into the opening, pulling the panel shut in front of him. It was very close quarters, and he was standing on two metal brackets that tied the armor to the transport. One slip and he could fall through to the ground below. He heard voices as a group of people entered the transport. He was committed now. 

There was a jarring rattle as the transport door closed. Obi-Wan could just make out the muffled shouts of orders to move out. The engine started, rattling his very bones, and the transport rumbled off. Obi-Wan watched as the floor beneath his feet changed from the metal plates of Rogue Base to the grey gravel of the road to Aldera. The Jedi pressed his hands against the transport wall, bracing himself as best he could as the transport bumped and banged along. It was going to be a very long ride. 

*******

Padme sat low in her chair in the security control room, her forefinger resting against her cheek as she watched the monitors. She had volunteered for a security shift after her fight with Anakin, eager to spend some time in a quiet place. The security chief was in the room too, but he was several seats down, keeping his eye on a different set of screens. Most of the usual staff had been released to prepare for the Rogues next move. No one wanted to be left behind for the liberation of the planet’s capital. 

The argument with Anakin had rattled her. She understood what it was to lose your family. Her parents had lost their lives in the invasion of Alderaan, collateral damage in the early days of the war. Anakin knew something of that kind of loss, having watched his father die a violent death. He had told Padme about that, as she had told him about her parents. It was the common bond of tragedy that helped bring them together at their first meeting, more than a year ago. 

She tried not to think on it, but the memories of their time together kept scrolling through her mind. When it began, she had not meant for it to be anything serious. He was young and handsome, with an air of fearlessness that intrigued her, and it all seemed harmless enough at first. But it turned out they’d both jumped headlong into something they didn’t understand and couldn’t control. 

“Commander, I’ve got something on screen seven.” Padme swiveled her chair around, sitting up.

“What is it?” she asked, standing and coming to stand behind the security chief’s chair. He pointed to one of his monitors.

“Someone just boarded the captured Neimoidian ship, and powered it up.” Leaning forward, she looked where he pointed and saw the vessel, its engines glowing faintly as it idled. She straightened up, frowning.

“Check the departure schedule,” she ordered. The security chief brought the readout up on another screen and scanned through it quickly. He shook his head.

“Nothing for that vessel,” he said.

“Roll back the tape.” Padme watched as the image on the monitor moved backwards for a few seconds, then stopped and played again. She saw a tall young man with windswept hair snaking through the crowded hangar and up the vessel’s gangway. She hung her head, covering her eyes with her hand. Of course. It was Anakin.

“Shall I alert the hangar security team?” the security chief asked. Padme uncovered her eyes. She knew that if anyone else found him in that ship he was going to be in real trouble. She shook her head.

“No. I’ll handle this.” The security chief looked uncertain, but Padme pulled on her jacket and left the room, making her way swiftly down the metal stair and down the hall to the hangar bay. The ship was still there, idling. No one seemed to have noticed anything was amiss...yet. She headed up the gangway, leaving her blaster in its holster. 

The ship was small, just a cargo area and the cockpit. As she walked up the gangway she could see Anakin sitting in the pilot’s chair, bent over the controls. He appeared to be lost in concentration, as he didn’t look up as she approached the cockpit doorway. He seemed totally unaware of her presence. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she demanded as she reached the cockpit. 

Anakin spun around in surprise. His face darkened when he saw her. Apparently he was still angry.

“I’m taking this ship,” he said. Padme didn’t appreciate his tone. She drew her blaster.

“I don’t think so,” she said, brandishing her weapon. “Step away. Now.” Anakin remained where he was. He clearly wasn’t going to make this easy. “Anakin, step away from the controls,” she said again, with a hint of impatience. But Anakin didn’t budge.

“I can’t do that,” he said, turning back towards the ship’s controls. She sighed and released the safety on her blaster, taking aim at his chest. It was set for stun, but she needed him to know she wasn’t fooling around. He swivelled the pilot’s chair back around, looking first at the blaster, then up at her. He seemed strangely calm.

“You aren’t going to shoot me.” Was that a statement or a question? Padme stared at him, her blaster still raised. Anakin stared back. Padme’s mind raced, weighing her options, panicking at the potential consequences. She hadn’t expected him to force her into actually pulling the trigger, even if it would only stun him. Had their relationship devolved so far as that? She jumped as the tense silence was broken by a static-filled voice coming in over Padme’s comm. 

“Commander, what’s the situation on the Neimoidian vessel? Do you require assistance?” the voice asked. It was the security chief. Padme didn’t move. She knew she could stun Anakin and call for backup. They would imprison him. He would be saved from whatever reckless plan he was about to undertake. He would also probably never forgive her.

The voice returned. “Commander Naberrie?” Padme reached for her comm slowly, unclipping it from her belt and raising it to her mouth. Anakin was watching her closely with his ice blue eyes. 

“Negative,” she said, her blaster still trained on Anakin. “Situation normal.” Anakin looked stunned. She was surprised too. She lowered her blaster slowly. If she was going to aid and abet him, she might as well do it properly. “This vessel is due to depart for pre-liberation reconnaissance.” 

“That’s not what the log says…” the security chief said, skeptical. 

“There’s an error in the log. See that it is corrected.” Padme said authoritatively. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. 

“Yes, commander.” The comm went silent. Anakin continued to look at her, perplexed.

“Why did you do that?” he asked. Why indeed? Padme looked at a scuff mark on the floor. 

“Because…” she cast about for words, “because I…” It was because she loved him. But she couldn’t say it. She had never been able to say it. It filled her with terror. She was afraid that the intensity of her feeling would impede her judgement, make her reckless. It had frightened her enough that she’d ended their relationship. The worst of it was, she had been right. She’d just proved her fears had been completely justified.

“Thank you,” he said with a slight nod, when she failed to answer. Perhaps he sensed that she couldn’t. Perhaps he already knew the truth. She looked up and met his eyes. He looked older somehow. She realized with a strange jolt that she might never see him again. In helping him commandeer the ship, she was likely sending him to his death. She pushed the thought from her mind. It was too much to bear.

“I think we can spare one ship. And one useless freighter navigator,” she said with a mischievous grin, making light, trying to steer clear of the emotional minefield they were drifting toward. “Don’t make me regret it.”

“I won’t,” he said solemnly. She nodded, taking a step toward him. She wanted to say something, she wanted to stop him from going, but she knew it would do no good. She’d had her chance to stop him, and she hadn’t taken it. 

“You have a plan? You and the Jedi?” she asked. Anakin nodded. “Good. That’s good,” she said, drifting forward a few more steps. She was standing very close to him now. She could feel the blood pounding in her ears. He looked up at her uncertainly from the pilot’s chair. A voice in her head was shouting at her to tell him, to tell him everything before it was too late, but the words wouldn’t come. She had to find another way.

She kissed him, leaning down, pulling his face to hers. At first he seemed surprised, but a moment later he was kissing her back, drawing her down into his arms. She kissed his cheek, her arms around his neck. He held her close, one hand on her back, the other in her hair. When she felt the hot sting of tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes, she pulled back, holding his head in her hands.

“Come back,” she said, as she looked into his eyes. “You have to come back.” She knew it was an absurd thing to say. But she wanted him to tell her he would, even if it wasn’t true. The corner of his mouth turned up in the smallest of smiles.

“I will,” he said, still holding her gaze. “I promise.” She nodded. The stinging in her eyes was becoming more intense. She stood quickly, extracting herself from his embrace, and hurried back down the gangway, not giving Anakin time to say anything else. 

*******

Obi-Wan gritted his teeth as the transport came to a lurching halt, nearly sending him tumbling to the ground from his precarious perch between the transport’s inner wall and outer armor. They had been on the road for hours. Obi-Wan was caked with dirt and sweat. His mouth and eyes were gritty with dust. But he hadn’t been discovered. So far, so good. 

The Jedi listened intently as the transport door banged open and the troops inside it began to disembark. They seemed to be in high spirits, but they quieted as their commander ordered silence. He heard them moving off, away from the transport, no doubt headed toward Aldera. The Rogues would want to be in position to retake the city once the bulk of the Separatist force departed in the morning. 

Just as he was beginning to think it might be safe to leave his hiding spot, he felt a vaguely familiar presence through the Force. The sounds of a pair of heavy boots reverberated through the transport. The panel behind which Obi-Wan was concealed began to shift. There was nowhere to run. The person on the other side of the panel gave a mighty heave, and it came free. Obi-Wan fell forward out of the narrow space he had been squeezed into for the last several hours, landing on his hands and knees. Above him he heard an exasperated sigh. 

“Kenobi, you are a damn fool aren’t you?” Obi-Wan looked up at KeAnn Lyosar, who stood before him, still holding the metal panel in her hands. He cursed his lack of foresight. Of course the ex-Jedi had sensed his presence aboard the transport.

“I find a bit of foolishness is sometimes what is required, when there is no other help to be had,” Obi-Wan said, starting to get to his feet. KeAnn put the panel aside and pulled him the rest of the way up. 

“Yes, I’m well aware of what you requested of the princess, and of her response,” KeAnn said. 

“Then you see why I had to take matters into my own hands. You would do well not to hinder me,” he said, holding his hand near his lightsaber. She looked at his lightsaber, then pulled back her jacket to reveal the metallic hilt of a laser sword, clipped to a specially made holster strapped to her side. 

“They should have confiscated that when you were expelled from the Order,” he said, keeping one eye on the weapon in case she made a grab for it.

“They did,” she said. She shrugged at his look of confusion. “I have my ways.” 

“I’m sure you do.” He really didn’t want to have to fight his way out of this, but he was ready to do it if he had to. To his surprise, however, KeAnn pulled her jacket back into place. 

“Don’t worry Kenobi, I have no desire to hinder you. Quite the contrary,” she said lightly. Obi-Wan stared at her, open-mouthed. Perhaps his hearing had been affected by his unorthodox ride on the transport. 

“What?” he asked. 

“You’re going to do something to sabotage the Separatists, aren’t you?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said, giving his head a gentle shake. Were his ears functioning normally?

“Then stop looking so shocked and come with me,” she said, heading out of the transport. Obi-Wan followed still trying to figure out what was happening. She went around the side the transport, pulling Obi-Wan quickly around the corner with her. “Over here,” she hissed at him, “and keep your head down.” He realized there was a group of troops standing not too far off. 

“What is this? Why are you helping me?” he whispered urgently, trying to understand. KeAnn was opening a storage crate that had been unloaded next to the transport, looking for something. 

“Understand this Kenobi, I’ve no love left for the Republic, but Coruscant was my home long before Alderaan was,” she said in a low voice, occasionally looking over at the other Rogues to make sure no one was looking their way. “I still have many friends there. I don’t want to see it occupied by these Separatist scum any more than you do.” 

“Then you’ll go against your orders?” Obi-Wan asked, still confused.

“No, of course not,” she said, brushing off the question. “I will be in position to retake the southwest quadrant of the city when the sun rises, as I was ordered. If I can help you along the way...well, I don’t see that as disobeying orders. No one  _ ordered _ me not to escort you to Aldera.”

“I suppose you’re right, from a certain point of view,” Obi-Wan said warily. He still wasn’t sure he could trust her.

“You are headed to Aldera, aren’t you?” she asked, still pulling items from the storage crate.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said. He decided he didn’t have much choice but to trust her now. “I have to get aboard Maul’s ship, his flagship.”

“The  _ Menace _ .” She nodded. “Well, conveniently that isn’t far from my dawn rendezvous point.”

“Won’t your troops be suspicious?” Obi-Wan asked, peering around the edge of the transport at the waiting soldiers. When he turned back, KeAnn was holding up a pair of binders she’d just pulled from the crate.

“Not if you don’t give them a reason to be.”


	10. Sabotage and Subterfuge

**Sabotage and Subterfuge**

From the large viewport in his quarters on the  _ Menace _ , Darth Maul watched the swarms of ships and soldiers amassed on the landing field. Armored troops marched to their transports, silhouetted against the glowing light from thousands of ship engines as dusk gave way to the full blackness of night. At dawn, the fleet would launch, bringing long overdue retribution to the Republic. Everything was going according to plan.

Maul turned from the window and seated himself cross-legged on the octagonal dias at the center of his room. He closed his eyes, entering a state of meditation. He felt the dark side of the Force flowing strongly, around and through him. In his mind’s eye he saw the panicked Senators of the Republic fleeing before him. It was a satisfying vision. One he believed would soon come to pass.

But there was danger too. He felt rather than saw the approach of his enemies. Kenobi and Skywalker were coming, he could sense it. But he also sensed that they were alone. The Rogues, as he had foreseen, would not join the fight. It mattered little. Whatever foolhardy plan the Jedi and his young protege had devised, Maul was certain it would not be enough to stop him now. Nothing would be enough. Soon Kenobi would be dead, and the Skywalker boy would be ready to begin his journey to the dark side. 

Maul opened his eyes and stood. He retrieved his black hooded cloak and swung it around his shoulders. He would return to the bridge to keep a closer eye on the invasion preparations. His cloak in place, he clipped the long hilt of his lightsaber to his belt. Kenobi and Skywalker would find their way to him, he was sure of it. And when they did, he would be ready. 

*******

Obi-Wan marched with KeAnn’s company of Rogues through the fields at the edge of Aldera. There had been a few wary looks when KeAnn had dragged him out from behind the transport, but these troops clearly trusted their commander. They didn’t question her decision to bring a potentially dangerous prisoner with them into the city.

Obi-Wan’s hands were bound in front of him, and the clip on his utility belt where his lightsaber usually hung was empty. He watched the weapon bounce against KeAnn’s hip as she walked in front of him. Binders were one thing, separation from his lightsaber was another. Still, KeAnn had promised to help him. He thought her reason for doing so somewhat thin, but she knew the city and the Separatists. She could very well be the key to finding a way onto Maul’s ship. If she didn’t betray him first.

The company approached the southern edge of the city of Aldera. Alderaan’s capital had once been a glittering jewel of a city, a bastion of intellectualism centered around the planet’s long history of promoting peace and diplomacy. It was still a beautiful city, but the marks of the war were everywhere. Against the backdrop of the high mountains to the west, the many spires and towers of Aldera still stood, but many of them were burnt out shells of their former splendor.

Things were even worse in the more middle-class residential area that the group now approached. It was utterly deserted, a maze of once-respectable homes and gardens torched, bombed, and riddled with blaster fire. There were no signs of life anywhere. It was a sight that had become only too familiar to Obi-Wan during his service in the war.

KeAnn halted and the others followed suit, crouching low in the high grass of the meadow just outside the city. She gave a signal to one of the other soldiers and a handful of Rogues made their way swiftly and cautiously into the streets ahead, checking buildings as they went. After a few minutes, the soldier who had led the scouting group returned and gave the all clear.

Obi-Wan stood and walked with the others into the city streets. It was eerie and quiet. KeAnn spread her troops out in a line, maximizing their ability to clear houses and continue to move forward. Obi-Wan could sense the nervousness of the Rogues, even though there didn’t appear to be any Separatist forces anywhere near them. 

The hair on the back of Obi-Wan’s neck stood up. Then he heard the shell. He flung himself to the side as it slammed into the building next to him. Rubble flew in all directions as the corner of the building toppled. Obi-Wan’s ears were ringing. He scrambled up, his hands still bound. There was no time to do anything about his restraints, he knew more shells were coming. He ran forward into the dust. He could make out the forms of the Rogues around him as they ran too, many taking cover in the ruined structures all around them. 

“Get down!” KeAnn shouted as another round came whistling overhead. Obi-Wan dove into the street as the shell burst about a block away. He crawled the last few feet to KeAnn’s position, where she was crouched with several other soldiers. KeAnn was shouting furiously into the comm.  

“This is Commander Lyosar, we have contact!” Another shell exploded in the meadow behind them, mercifully overshooting its target. “Repeat, contact in the southeast quadrant!” More rounds poured in. Some of the Rogues were pushing forward, but others were huddled behind the walls of the surrounding buildings, sitting targets for the Separatist bombs. KeAnn jumped into the street, waving her hands and shouting at her troops, trying to keep them moving.

“Get out of the buildings! Get out! Move, move! Keep moving!” She shouted, urging them forward. Obi-Wan followed her out into the street. It felt exposed, but he knew, as KeAnn did, that the best defense from an artillery barrage was to continually change position. Hunkering down was liable to get you killed. KeAnn leapt into a ditch as another round of artillery screamed overhead, and Obi-Wan went in after her. Two young officers made their way down the ditch towards KeAnn, looking for orders.

“Johan, Rissa, take your platoons and head west toward the river,” KeAnn told them, gesturing to the marshlands in the distance. “Tegan and I will take first and third platoons south through the city. We’ll be harder to hit if we split up and stay thin on the line.”

“The southern route will be cutting it close to the landing field, Commander,” Rissa said. KeAnn brushed off her concern.

“We’ll be alright. Now get moving, and hold your fire. You’ll only give them a target.” The two officers nodded and moved off, signaling for their platoons to follow. KeAnn grabbed the nearest soldier. “Pass it along, we need to fan out and keep moving.” KeAnn unclipped her commlink from her belt and tried again to hail Tactical. “Naberrie? Commander Naberrie? Anybody?” There was only silence. “Tegan, try Tactical on your comm.” Tegan made her own attempt, but nothing came through. She shook her head.

“Can’t get anyone at Tactical HQ, Commander,” Tegan said. “Looks like the signal is down or jammed.” KeAnn sighed heavily. Obi-Wan remained beside her, hoping she was going to be able to deliver on her promise to help him. He didn’t think getting shelled to pieces had been part of her plan.

“Alright, listen up,” KeAnn said after a moment’s thought. “I’ll get a message to Tactical in person. That gun battery isn’t mapped and they need to know about it.” She jerked her thumb in Obi-Wan’s direction. “I can drop our baggage with them while I’m at it.” The brief glance Tegan gave Obi-Wan told him that the officer was eager to be rid of the Jedi prisoner. The feeling was mutual. “You take the others through the city to the rendezvous.” 

“Yes, Commander.” Tegan gave a quick nod, which KeAnn returned. KeAnn then grabbed Obi-Wan roughly, pushing him ahead of her.

“Come on Kenobi, let’s move.” Obi-Wan did as he was told, keeping low as the two of them moved out of the city and back into the meadowlands. Once they were out of sight of the other Rogues, KeAnn stopped and crouched down, pulling Obi-Wan with her. 

“Let’s get you out of these binders,” she said as she unlocked his restraints. She unclipped his lightsaber from her belt and held it out to him. Obi-Wan took it and returned the weapon to its rightful place on his own utility belt. Perhaps he could trust her after all.

“How far to the landing field?” he asked as he and KeAnn continued through the tall grass, staying low to avoid any unwanted attention.

“A couple of hours march. Luckily, the terrain is flat. But don’t rush, the movement in the grass could give us away, and if we get caught out here, there’s nowhere to hide.” Obi-Wan nodded. They continued on, KeAnn occasionally checking her compass or risking a quick glance above the grass to check their position.

“I can see the landing field,” she said, after they’d walked for nearly two hours. “We’ll have better cover when we get closer, the rockslides off the mountains have strewn the fields around it with boulders.” Sure enough, as they continued to walk Obi-Wan began to see large grey rocks dotting the landscape here and there. As the grass began to thin, he caught his first glimpse of the Separatist landing field, and the thousands of ships amassing there.

The sight of the full might of the Separatist fleet so assembled was astonishing to behold. And, Obi-Wan realized with a nervous twinge, the ships gathered didn’t even include the massive number of vessels currently orbiting Alderaan as part of the blockade. It was an invasion army the likes of which had not been seen in the galaxy for thousands of years.

Their progress slowed as they neared the Separatist ships, as they were forced to crouch lower and move more carefully to avoid being seen. About one-hundred meters out they stopped, taking cover behind a craggy boulder within sight of Maul’s great black monolith of a flagship. The  _ Menace _ .

“We’ll have to wait, they’re still loading troops.” KeAnn said as she peered over the boulder through her macrobinoculars. “You’re best chance to get inside without being seen is after all the soldiers and personnel are aboard.” Obi-Wan agreed. He would only get one shot at this, he had to make sure he moved at the right time.

“You’ll need a distraction.” KeAnn said as she slunk back down behind the boulder. She surveyed Obi-Wan. “Give me your cloak,” she said. Obi-Wan looked at her in surprise.

“What for?” he asked, loathe to give it up.

“It’s a good bet the Separatists will be on the lookout for you. If they’re expecting a Jedi,” she said, pulling the hilt of her lightsaber out from under her jacket, “let’s give them one.” 

Obi-Wan sighed, but nodded in agreement and pulled off his cloak, handing it to KeAnn. She put it on and pulled up the hood to help hide her face. Obi-Wan chanced a glance around the rock at the  _ Menace, _ and he could see that the number of troops waiting to board the vessel was dwindling. Soon he and KeAnn would part ways, but there was something he had to know.

“I must ask you about Darth Maul,” he said, pulling his head back around and turning to KeAnn. “Are the rumours true?” KeAnn’s face darkened. She shook her head, looking uncertain and a little fearful.

“He knows the ways of the Force, that much I can tell you,” she said cryptically. 

“But is he truly a Lord of the Sith?” Obi-Wan pressed her for more information. He needed to know what he was up against. 

“I honestly don’t know,” she said with a sigh. “That might be a question for Captain Skywalker.” Obi-Wan was taken aback.

“Sola? What do you mean?” he asked. KeAnn shoot him an incredulous look.

“How many Outer Rim freighter pilots do you know who carry around ancient Sith weapons?” she asked. Obi-Wan’s brow wrinkled in confusion. He wracked his brain, trying to think what she was possibly referring to.

“What are you…” he stopped himself mid-question as the realization hit him. “The knife,” he said. Of course. He knew he’d recognized it from somewhere. A distant memory from his history lessons as a student at the Jedi Temple flashed through his mind. A story about the ancient days, when the Jedi had guarded the kyber crystals needed to build lightsabers. The Sith had eventually learned to synthesize their own crystals, but before that they had forged special vibroknives. 

“Blades that can’t be cut by a lightsaber,” he muttered out loud as the pieces fell into place. “It’s a Sith blade.” He looked back to KeAnn, who nodded. “But Sola Skywalker isn’t a Sith,” he stated matter-of-factly. But what reason did he have to be so certain? Doubt began to seep in. “Is she?” KeAnn shrugged.

“You can ask her yourself soon enough,” she said, as she peeked back around the boulder. “They’re closing the gangways.” Obi-Wan pushed himself up to have a look. The gangways were almost shut, but the cargo holds were still open. That was where he needed to go. KeAnn was already gathering her things, making ready to provide the promised distraction. She offered Obi-Wan a quick salute.

“May the Force be with you,” she said. Then she slipped into the grass and the rustle of her movement soon faded. A few moments later there was a tremendous boom and Obi-Wan watched a ship on the other side of the landing field go up in a plume of fire and smoke. The Separatist troops still milling about the  _ Menace _ rushed off in the direction of the conflagration. Obi-Wan sensed their panic and confusion. Now was the time. He dashed out from behind the boulder and moved quickly towards the ship, dodging behind crates or cargo sleds here and there to avoid being seen. 

Another explosion went off. In the distance he could just make out the bright green glow of KeAnn’s lightsaber. More field crew moved off toward the flames or stood watching, whispering among themselves. Obi-Wan crept to the nearest open cargo hold unnoticed, and slipped inside. 

*******

The controls of the Neimoidian ship were arranged in a manner totally foreign to Anakin, but he had managed to intuit enough to maintain basic control of the vessel. He’d learned from his time on the podracing circuit that it was best to trust your instincts, and he relied on them now to pilot the alien vessel. 

He’d cleared Rogue Base without trouble, looping out and away over Aldera before entering orbit, to give the impression he’d launched from the city and not from the Rogue’s mountain hideaway. He had been worried about needing some type of clearance to join the Separatist fleet in orbit, but in the mass of ships from a hundred different worlds no one seemed concerned with a small Neimoidian freighter.

Anakin spotted a group of Neimoidian vessels and hovered near them, but not too close. He wanted to blend in, but if any of the Neimodians hailed him in their native language he was going to be in trouble, so he kept his distance. The number of ships already assembled just beyond Alderaan’s atmosphere was staggering, and more continued to appear from the surface as the  landing field below was cleared. 

At last Anakin saw the great hulk of Maul’s flagship, the _ Menace _ , as it cruised up from Aldera. It’s black hull gleamed amid the engine lights of the fleet. Anakin sensed the nearness of Obi-Wan’s presence, and of his mother. He wanted to reach out to her, to tell her he was coming for her, but Owen’s words crept back into his mind. She would only tell him to run, to go back, to save himself. So he kept his mind closed, and leaned back in the pilot’s seat, waiting for Obi-Wan to strike the first blow.

*******

Inside the ventilation shaft, Obi-Wan waited. He’d crawled from the cargo bay into the bowels of the ship, heading for its center. Through the vent a few inches away he could see the corridor below. He peered through the slates of the vent, but pulled his head back as a platoon of Separatist clones passed beneath him. He would have to proceed with caution.

The ventilation shaft began to vibrate as the ship shook with the rumble of its engines. The shaking intensified as the power increased. The ship was leaving the planet’s surface. Soon the ship would reach orbit and the fleet would prepare to make the jump to lightspeed. Obi-Wan needed to have the communications down before that happened. 

Sensing that the corridor below him was empty, Obi-Wan pulled up the vent cover and flipped down into the hall, landing with a soft thud. He moved quickly down the corridor, keeping an eye on the wiring conduits overhead. He followed the blue conduit, hoping that the Separatists were utilizing the same standard military color-coding employed by the Republic. 

Hearing boots up head, he quickly dodged down a side corridor, pressing himself into a doorway. The troops passed him, their eyes straight ahead. Obi-Wan re-entered the main passage behind them, moving in the opposite direction, continuing to follow what he hoped was the communications conduit. A few hundred meters down the passage the pipes above him disappeared into the wall to his left. Obi-Wan could just make out the gentle hum of gears and electricity. The central communications hub must be on the other side of the wall. 

Obi-Wan crept further down the corridor, looking for a way inside. He came to an open door, and carefully peering into it he could see the several levels of conduit, wires, and computer terminals that made up the central communications hub. Unfortunately, he could also see a number technicians wandering the platforms around the hubs and manning the work stations. 

Obi-Wan was standing at the door at the top level of the hub, which extended at least four decks below his current position.  Something with as much computing power as a communication hub would require cooling. Through the doorway Obi-Wan would see thick pipes radiating from the ceiling of the large, circular space that held the hub. He had no doubt the pipes held water to cool the computer terminals throughout the hub. A plan began to formulate in his mind. 

Waiting for the technicians on his level to move off to the other side of the hub, Obi-Wan ducked inside the hub, his lightsaber in his hand. The blue blade ignited with a snap-hiss, and the technicians turned, beginning to shout, but it was too late. Obi-Wan sliced at the pipe above his head and a torrent of water came down, short-circuiting the hub’s computers. He ran along the deck, drenched, and sliced another pipe, and another. Water poured down as the technicians scrambled to get out of the way, terrified of being electrocuted. 

His work done, Obi-Wan dove for a door on the other side of the hub and pounded the controls, slamming the door behind him. He had come out across from an empty lift and jumped into it. Quickly surveying the controls, he depressed the button for the detention level. He shook his head and limbs, trying to dislodge the water from his body. 

When the lift passed the deck above the detention facilities, Obi-Wan hit the emergency stop. Igniting his lightsaber, he cut into the top of the lift above him and scrambled out into the elevator shaft. As he’d hoped, there was a service corridor only a few feet above him. He climbed into it, heading in the direction of the brig, and Sola Skywalker.

*******

Anakin sat, hunched down in the pilot’s seat as his ship idled in orbit, his eyes fixed on the indicator light above the comm showing that the Separatist channel was still live. He tapped the arm of the seat nervously. It was taking longer than he would have like for Obi-Wan to knock out the communication hub. Had something gone wrong? Had the Jedi been captured...or worse? 

Just as the young man’s mind was beginning to wander down a dark road of possible scenarios, the indicator light went black. Anakin sat up and tried to activate the comm. Nothing. Obi-Wan had done it. Moving rapidly, Anakin brought his weapon systems online. He’d been eyeing a Kaleesh battle cruiser a few hundred meters away. It would be his first target. Training his laser cannon on the other Separatist ship, Anakin took a deep breath, and fired.


	11. The Battle of Alderaan

**The Battle of Alderaan**

The explosion of blaster fire against the hull of the Kaleesh vessel lit up the far corner of the viewport, drawing the attention of everyone standing on the bridge of the Menace. Tarkin looked up from the computer terminal he’d been hovering over, his eyes narrowed. He strode to the viewport as another spray of blaster fire began to cross space, this time from the Kaleesh toward the Neimodians. 

“What is going on? Report!” Tarkin demanded, turning to the nearest bridge officer. 

“Sir, Sector Seven is reporting some kind of coolant malfunction...possibly there was an attack.”

“An attack? Carried out by whom?” 

“I don’t know sir, our communications seem to be down, we can’t hail any of the other ships on the network,” the officer said nervously as he consulted his data pad. Tarkin turned back to the viewport as a Kaleesh ship exploded. Other factions of Separatists seemed to be joining the fray now. If he didn’t reassert control soon, the entire fleet would descend into chaos. He rounded on the officer.

“Get down to Sector Seven and find out what is going on. Contain the situation, lieutenant,  _ at any cost, _ ” Tarkin ordered. The officer saluted and hurried off. Tarkin marched over to the communications computer terminal and stood over the shoulder of the officer there. The screen, normally awash in green with data, was blank. Fuming, Tarkin began to pace the bridge, but this exercise was interrupted as the Menace shook with the force of what could only be the fire of a laser cannon. 

“Stations, now!” Tarkin shouted. “Tactical, find out who fired on us and send a warning shot over their bow.” Another blast rocked the ship, forcing Tarkin to grab a bulkhead to brace himself. The scene outside had become more grim and chaotic. Blaster fire spewed in all directions, and now some of the larger ships were releasing fighters to join the fray. This kind of chaos didn’t erupt in a vacuum, Tarkin knew that much. Someone was sabotaging the invasion fleet. He would regain control, by whatever means necessary.

*******

Sola was thrown forward into the wall as the ship rocked with yet another explosion. Warning lights flashed in the corridor as the guards rushed around trying to repair the damaged systems. Across from her, Ackbar was crouched near the edge of his cell, watching the frantic guards. No doubt he was thinking, as she was, that if there was going to be a chance to escape this was it. 

A panicked voice crackled in over the comm and a moment later about half the guards left the brig. Sola hadn’t been able to hear the full conversation, but it sounded as though they had been summoned to another area of the ship that had taken heavy damage. Another blast, more violent than before, hit the ship. Sola braced herself against the bench in her cell. The force-field in front of her flickered, but remained on. She held her breath. One more blow like that, and just maybe…

A bulkhead in the corridor exploded, sending sparks and bits of metal flying. Sola ducked down and felt shards of hot metal graze the back of her jacket. The force field was down. She looked up and saw that Ackbar’s cell was open as well, but blocked by the wreckage. The body of a guard who had been standing too near the blockhead was sprawled half inside her cell. Through the ringing in her ears she could still hear shouting in the corridor. Sola knew the remaining guards would move to restore order quickly. 

Lunging forward, Sola grabbed the dead guard and hauled him fully into her cell. She frantically searched his utility belt, looking for the key to unlock the collar around her neck. She could hear the guards moving toward her through the wreckage in the corridor. Finally, she found a small set of keys and pulled them off the guard’s belt. The first key didn’t work, and her heart began to race faster. 

She saw the gloved hand of a guard appear around the threshold of her cell as he tried to pull himself past the scattered remains of the bulkhead. She fumbled with the next key, but finally forced it into the slot and heard a satisfying click as the collar fell from her neck. As it clattered to the floor, the guard finally succeeded in scrambling over the debris outside and appeared at the edge of her cell, his blaster trained on her forehead.

“Don’t move or I’ll shoot” he said shakily. His helmet was gone and his forehead was bleeding. Sola remained where she was, crouched above the body of the other guard. There was a sudden sound of metal against metal as the debris covering Ackbar’s cell began to shift. The guard whirled around and Sola took advantage of his momentary distraction. She raised her hand and the blaster flew out of his grip and into hers. 

She turned the weapon on the guard. He looked at her, his expression a mixture of terror and astonishment. From the other side of the wreckage blocking the hall she could hear the muffled calls of another guard asking if everything was alright. Sola got to her feet and grabbed the guard by his collar, pulling him close so she could be sure he heard every word. 

“Tell him everything is fine. Tell him the prisoners are dead.” She whispered into the guard’s ear, keeping his blaster pressed against his chest. He swallowed nervously, but did as he was told. 

“It’s alright, the prisoners are dead,” the guard shouted back to his companion. 

“Good riddance. Get back over here and we’ll follow the others to Sector Seven. Some kind of breach in the comm hub. No point sticking around here,” the other guard answered. Her hostage glanced at her, wondering what the next move was. Sola jerked her head in the direction of his companion’s voice and he started to move that way, but, struck by inspiration, Sola grabbed him and pulled him back.

“If you betray me, if you reveal that I’m alive, I will know, and I will find you,” she told the guard in a low growl. It was a bluff, of course, but the guard had no way of knowing that. He’d just had his own weapon taken from him by what must have seemed to him to be magic. By the quiver in his face as he nodded, she knew he’d taken the bait. She pointed to the pile of wreckage down the corridor and he scrambled back up and over it. She heard the door on the other side open and close as the guards left.

Sola picked her way over to Ackbar’s cell and pulled up a large piece of debris. She found the young Mon Calamari captain underneath it, unhurt but somewhat shaken. She offered him her hand and he wrapped his flipper around it. She pulled him up and out into the debris-laden corridor. 

“The guards...how did you…” Ackbar began to ask, looking around as Sola moved to the guard’s uniform locker. She tucked the blaster into her belt and pulled out a Separatist jacket that was at least two sized too big for her.

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve,” she said as she pulled on the too-large jacket over her own. She pulled a helmet from the locker to complete the ensemble. “Now, what do you say to getting the hell off this ship?”

*******

A door on the far side of the bridge hissed open and Darth Maul entered, his black hood over his head, his cloak billowing out behind him. Tarkin’s temper flared. He didn’t need to deal with the Sith Lord on top of the present crisis. But, he straightened his tunic and maintained his composure. 

“Lord Maul,” Tarkin said, inclining his head slightly. Maul strode forward, stopping next to Tarkin and looking out at the evolving scene of infighting. He did not seem to want to acknowledge Tarkin’s existence. 

“It’s the Jedi,” Maul said, still looking out the viewport. Tarkin looked up at him, his pulse accelerating. It wasn’t possible. True, the rumours were that the Jedi had been taken by the Rogues, but all indications were he had found no help among them. How could one man be causing such disruption?

“Are you certain? It could be the Rogues.” Tarkin offered, realizing that his gambit to bring the Jedi in alive might have backfired in a way he’d failed to anticipate. This could prove very bad for him indeed.

“It is Kenobi,” Maul said firmly. “He is more foolhardy than I thought.” Tarkin wasn’t sure what that meant exactly, but before he could get clarification another bridge officer ran up to him.

“Sir, we have a report of a breach on the detention level. Force fields are down in the brig,” the officer said breathlessly. Maul turned to Tarkin.

“I will handle this. Get your troops back in order, Colonel. Do what must be done,” Maul said. Then he swept from the room. The bridge officer waited a beat, then pressed on with more bad news.

“Sir, all attempts to restore communication have failed,” he said. “What are your orders?” Tarkin glowered down at the officer. Maul was right. The time for extreme action had come.

“There is only one option,” Tarkin said. “If our friends have become our enemies, we will destroy them.”

“Sir?” the officer asked, not comprehending the meaning of Tarkin’s words.

“Any Separatist ship not flying under the direct command of Lord Maul must be destroyed,” Tarkin ordered. The blood seemed to drain from the officer’s face as he stared back at Tarkin. So many of them were unprepared to do what was required. It disgusted Tarkin. “The clone troopers will see it done. Only they can be trusted now.”

“You want us to fire on our own troops, sir?” the officer asked, still uncertain. Tarkin fixed the officer with a sharp look.

“When a limb is poisoned, you cut if off, lieutenant,” he said. “You cut it off, or you die.”

*******

Tactical Headquarters for the Rogues was located deep beneath Aldera in a now defunct section of tunnel once used for subterranean transit. The former transit line ran from the now abandoned parts of the city near the edge of the meadowlands into the heart of Aldera. The Rogues had worked for years to extend the tunnel into the mountains, providing a lifeline into the capital for exactly one purpose: the future liberation of Aldera. 

Padme stood at the holoprojector they’d set up at the end of the tunnel, flipping through images of their troops all around the city displayed from hacked security cameras. She watched the chronometer embedded in the display. Dawn would be arriving shortly, and with it, their long awaited attack. She tapped her fingers nervously against the edge of the projector as she watched the seconds pass. 

“Commander.” Padme turned as an officer approached her. “Commander Lyosar is here. She wishes to speak with you,” the officer said. Padme looked at him in confusion.

“Commander Lyosar is with her commandos in the southwest quadrant,” Padme said, but even as she said it KeAnn appeared behind the officer, her shoulders draped in a dark brown robe. Padme recognized it immediately as the cloak of a Jedi. She dismissed the officer. Whatever KeAnn had to say, it seemed probable it would be better for them to converse in private.

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be on the ground! We attack in less than an hour,” Padme said in a low voice, conscious of the Rogues working only a few meters away. “And what, in the Queen’s name, are you doing wearing Kenobi’s cloak?” she asked. 

“Officially, I’m here to report a new battery in the old Celchu district,” KeAnn said rather loudly, but then she leaned in and lowered her voice, “Unofficially, I’m here to tell you that Kenobi is on Maul’s flagship,” she whispered, “and I helped him get there.” Padme looked at KeAnn, momentarily stunned. “Report me to Breha if you want, but my family is on Coruscant, so are the families of thousands of other Alderaanians, I couldn’t just sit by and…” Padme put up her hand and KeAnn went quiet.

“I know. I know, you’re right,” Padme said. KeAnn looked a little surprised by Padme’s reaction. Padme lowered her eyes when she spoke again. “I helped Skywalker commandeer one of our captured Separatist ships,” she admitted. KeAnn blinked at her a few times, then let out a small, breathy laugh, shaking her head.

“Well, trouble loves company I suppose,” KeAnn said. “If the princess finds out, we’ll both be in for it.”

“I don’t see any reason for her to find out,” Padme said firmly. She didn’t want to admit her betrayal to Breha. She wasn’t sure she would ever be able to repair the damage to their friendship if she did. 

The officer who had brought KeAnn to her suddenly ran up to them, brandishing a data disk. “Commander, our informant from one of the blockade ships says the Separatists have started attacking each other.”

“What? Show me,” Padme ordered. The officer inserted the disk into the projector. Alderaan’s surface disappeared and was replaced with a view of the Separatist fleet above the planet. The three Rogues watched as the recording unfolded, the officer gesturing to a Neimoidian vessel on the far side of the image. Padme recognized it immediately as the ship Anakin had stolen. 

“The Neimodians fired on the Kahleesh and all hell broke loose,” the officer said as the recording progressed to show a small number of blaster bolts blossoming into a scene of chaotic fire and explosions. “Reports are that the whole Separatist communication array is down.”

“I don’t believe it,” Padme said, half to herself. “They actually did it.” As the battle unfolded, Padme furrowed her brow, keeping her eyes on the  _ Menace. _ “What is Maul’s ship doing?”

“It’s attacking the other Separatists. As are its fighters,” KeAnn said as she watched, leaning over the projector.

“Maul is trying to reassert control,” Padme said thoughtful. She looked at KeAnn. The ex-Jedi seemed to be having the same realization she was. It was possible that Obi-Wan and Anakin had provided them with an opportunity, if they could move to take advantage of it. An opportunity to destroy the entire Separatist fleet, once and for all. She pointed to the officer. “Get the other commanders on the comm, and tell them to hold position,” she ordered. “I have to speak with the princess.”

*******

Hysteria reigned in the corridors of the  _ Menace _ as Sola ran after Ackbar, following him to the hangar bay that held his shuttle. Separatist troops, clone or otherwise, were running through the halls, trying to follow the hastily barked orders of their officers. In the mad dash all around them, the two escaped prisoners went undetected, Ackbar’s Separatist uniform and Sola’s improvised disguise were sufficient. No one was going to stop them to take a closer look while their ship was under attack.

As they neared the hangar, Ackbar pulled Sola aside. “My shuttle is in the hangar up ahead. If I can reach my fleet, I can turn them against Maul and his forces.”

“Then we’d better get you onto that shuttle. Come on,” Sola said, continuing down the corridor. She worried that joining Ackbar’s fleet might only be trading one bad situation for another. Joining a smaller opposition force seemed more like suicide than escape. But it would give her some distance from Maul and, hopefully, keep Anakin from attempting to infiltrate the  _ Menace. _

When they arrived at the hangar they found it was also teeming with activity. Clone pilots were being launched in fighters, one after the other. There seemed to be no end to their numbers. Ackbar continued on toward his shuttle, not slowing down a beat. Sola followed his lead. It had to look like they were just another couple of troops eager to join the fight. Ackbar was only meters from the lowered gangway, with Sola trailing just behind him, when a voice rang out from the other side of the hangar. 

“Hey! You don’t have clearance to take that vessel!” One of the officers overseeing the fighter launches had seen them.

“Run for it!” Sola hissed to Ackbar as the officer strode toward them. The other Separatist troops around him were beginning to take notice also. Ackbar hesitated, even as a round of blaster fire passed directly over their heads. Warning shots. Sola knew the next ones wouldn’t be. “Get the hell out of here! You have to get your fleet to attack this ship!” she shouted as she took aim with her blaster and returned fire. 

This time Ackbar listened and sprinted up the gangway. Sola dodged the blaster bolts of the Separatists and moved away from the shuttle, trying to draw them off the vessel. The shuttle’s gangway closed and turned its guns on the Separatists. The soldiers dove out of the way as the laser cannon strafed them. Ackbar blasted at the clone fighters waiting to launch, then gunned his engines and took off, headed for the flagship of the fleet from Mon Cala. 

Temporarily put off their attack by Ackbar’s dramatic exit, the Separatists now turned their attention back to Sola. Recognizing that she was outgunned, she made a run for it, back down the corridor she and Ackbar had just come from. She sprinted as hard as she could, pushing through the crowds of Separatists that clogged the passage, looking for a place to hide. 

She dodged into an open door and found herself in the midst of some kind of briefing. A couple of Separatists turned to look at her, but the briefing continued. She realized that they simply thought she was running late. Sola stood at attention, controlling her breathing as she looked ahead at the officer addressing the group. 

She heard a rush of boots as her pursuers ran past, but they didn’t check the briefing room. Sola continued to stand through the agonizingly long set of instructions provided by the droning officer leading the briefing. At last, he concluded the meeting and the Separatists in the room began to disperse. Sola slipped out with them, once again disappearing into the mass of soldiers. 

She couldn’t keep up her disguise forever. Sooner or later, someone was going to catch her. Besides that, she could sense Anakin’s presence nearby, as well as that of the Jedi. Her son was certain to attempt some ill-advised rescue attempt. She had to get off the ship and find him before he tried anything foolish. She knew a ship as large as the  _ Menace  _ would have another hangar bay, maybe several more. Commandeering a ship was her best hope of escape. She had to find one, and fast.

*******

Padme ran through the corridors of Rogue Base, looking for the princess. She’d come in person, knowing the risk of an intercepted transmission, but also knowing Breha would be more likely to listen to her face to face. She entered the hangar and spotted Breha at it’s edge, deep in conversation with the commander of the Rogue fleet. She sprinted to the princess, and, hurriedly begging the commander’s forgiveness, pulled her away into a corner where they could talk. 

“Padme, what are you doing?” Breha asked, shocked at Padme’s sudden appearance. “The attack will begin in mere moments, you should be at Tactical.”

“The situation has changed,” Padme said, still breathing hard from her run. Breha furrowed her brow.

“What? What are you talking about?” she asked.

“The Separatists are attacking one another, their coalition seems to be falling apart,” Padme said quickly. Breha was taken aback. She shook her head in confusion.

“How is that possible?” she asked, skeptical. Padme dodged the question.

“What does it matter? This is our chance, Breha. With the Separatist forces in chaos, we can do more than free Alderaan. We may actually be able to destroy the Separatist fleet,” Padme said excitedly, willing Breha to agree with her. But Breha’s face was clouded by doubt.

“No one has seen Skywalker or Kenobi since last night, yet we have no record of them leaving the base...could this be their doing?” Breha asked, half to herself. Padme clenched her jaw, wondering how much to reveal to Breha. The less said, she decided, the better.

“If it is them, they’ve already struck an incredible blow against the Separatists. We can capitalize on that. This isn’t a suicide mission anymore, Breha.” 

“It’s still risky. Very risky,” Breha said, but Padme could sense her resolve to stay out of the larger fight softening. “We could end up losing everything we’ve fought for,” Breha said quietly.

“Then keep part of the fleet just below orbit, to guard the ground assault,” Padme said. “We can still take back the city. That way, if the Separatists try to return to Alderaan, we’ll be in a better position to stop them,’ she explained. Breha looked wary. Padme understood her hesitation. It was still a gamble, but she had to convince Breha to take it. “Breha, you and I were orphaned by the invasion. We lost everything. We suffered, we fought, we watched our friends die. Now we have a chance, a real chance, to end the war. A chance for Alderaan, for all of us, to return to a life of peace.”

Padme watched Breha’s face carefully. She could read the strong emotions barely concealed behind it. She’d hit on a nerve, several nerves in fact. But she believed it had to be said, and she believed it was true. At last, Breha nodded, waving the fleet commander back over.

“Commander, assemble the fleet,” Breha ordered. “I have a new mission for you.”

*******

Warning lights flashed across the cockpit as Anakin struggled to keep his commandeered ship out of the way of incoming blaster fire. His plan seemed to have worked, possibly a little too well, as he now found himself trying to stay alive at the epicenter of the most chaotic firefight he’d ever witnessed. 

Anakin juked the controls, spiralling out of the way of another round of cannon fire. He drifted in closer to one of the larger ships, trying to use it for cover. It was impossible to predict where the next round of fire would come from. Every ship seemed to be firing on every other ship. It was pandemonium. 

Fighters began to pour from the hangar bays of the  _ Menace _ , attacking all the Separatist ships not flying under Maul’s banner. Their onslaught provided a reprieve as the other Separatists began to turn their attention from each other to focus on the new threat. Anakin brought his ship around, staying at the edge of the fray. He was biding his time, waiting for an opportunity to get close to the Menace. He had to be prepared to extract Obi-Wan and his mother when the moment came.

As Anakin watched, he saw a shuttle rocket away from the  _ Menace _ toward the Mon Calamari fleet. It’s sister ships raced to defend it, and he saw the shuttle disappear into the hangar bay of the Mon Calamari flagship. Minutes later, the Mon Calamari fleet shifted its tactics, concentrating all its considerable firepower against the  _ Menace _ and the other ships flying under Maul’s direct command. New allegiances began to form, with the Separatist groups either aligning themselves with Maul or the fleet from Mon Cala. 

The Kaleesh, under the command of General Grievous, the Neimodians and the paid mercenaries of the Banking Clan, moved to stand with Maul against the new front that was forming. Anakin stayed with the Neimodians where his ship would blend in best. He kept up his blaster fire to avoid suspicion, but continued to miss his targets on purpose. Among the Neimoidian forces, largely made up of droid combatants, he was hardly alone in his inaccuracy. 

Suddenly, several ships on his flank exploded. Anakin looked over and saw a small fleet of fighters and light cruisers moving toward them from the planet. He squinted his eyes, not quite believing what he was seeing, but as the fighters streaked past, there could be no doubt. The Rogues had arrived.

*******

Padme shifted uncomfortably in the cockpit of her fighter, unused to the confined space. She rarely flew in a fighter, but she’d convinced the shorthanded fleet commander she was up to it. In the early days of the Rogues she had always been on the front lines, and if today was going to see the end of the Separatists, that was where she wanted to be once more. 

She led the eleven other pilots of her squadron toward the battle ahead. As she surveyed the Separatist fleet she saw that the ships had formed two opposing lines, one headed up by Maul’s forces, the other by the Mon Calamari fleet. The fleet commander saw it too. “This is Commander Baden. Focus the attack on the  _ Menace _ and it’s allies. Commander Kila, take your squadron and get after those Kaleesh ships. Commander Naberrie, the Neimodians are yours. All other units focus on the destruction of those clone fighters and disabling the guns on the  _ Menace _ .”

Commander Kila and his fighters peeled off towards General Grievous and his ships, while Padme pulled her fighter in the other direction, heading for the Neimodians. “Split up and spread out, delta formation,” she ordered as the squadron approached the enemy. Two wingmen fell into position behind her as the rest of the squadron also formed up into groups of three and staggered themselves along the line of attack. 

As the enemy came into range, Padme fired a volley at the closest vessel, a small droid fighter, and watched it go up in a fireball. The Rogues flanking her soon destroyed two more fighters. The squadron shot through the planetside flank of the Neimoidian forces, taking them unawares. But the element of surprise didn’t last long. The larger cruisers turned their laser cannon on the Rogues and Padme held tight to the controls as a laser cannon blast grazed her shields. 

“Yarin, Avery, move your groups up make a pass over those cruisers. We’ll take out the turret guns behind you,” Padme ordered. Half the squadron sped up, passing swiftly over the enemy vessels. The turret guns turned to follow the fighters and Padme and the rest of the squadron followed, blasting the guns while they were pointed away. One of the lead fighters took a hit, and Padme could see black smoke trailing from its starboard engine, but it didn’t go down. 

The droid fighters now began their offensive in earnest. The small ships were mercilessly fast, but unshielded. The droids the piloted them were also notoriously inaccurate. That was something she could take advantage of. “Scatter, draw those fighters out of formation. Stick close to the cruisers, half their volleys will end up being friendly fire the way those droids shoot,” Padme said.

Each member of the squadron veered off in a different direction, creating confusion among the enemy. As Padme had suspected, the droids had trouble maintaining accuracy against an unpredictable flight plan. A couple of fighters even crashed against their own cruisers trying to follow a Rogue fighter through a tight dive and barrel roll. 

Padme dodged and weaved among the cruisers, trying to shake a very persistent droid fighter. Blaster fire from the enemy fighter rocked her fighter. She watched the energy levels on her shields begin to drop. Just as she was about to hail one of her comrades for help, a nearby Neimoidian ship started firing. She jerked her fighter out of the way, but the blasts went well wide of her position, striking and destroying the fighter behind her. She took a closer look at the ship that had just saved her. She recognized it almost instantly. It was the same one she’d helped Anakin steal the night before.

*******

With the Rogue fleet incoming, Anakin scrambled to keep up some pretense of taking part in the fight while trying to patch his comm into the Rogue’s communication network. He frantically scanned all available comm signals, trying to find the Rogues frequency as his ship was hit by yet another round of fire from the Rogues. He needed to let them know he was on their side, and fast. 

He set the scanner to run automatically, hoping it might pick something up but knowing it would be all but impossible to hack into the Rogue’s encrypted comm system without an access code. They would have to contact him first. As the squadron of Rogue fighters scattered, he saw their leader pick up a droid tail within his firing range. Activating his laser cannon, he took aim at the droid. He knew once he fired on a Neimoidian ship, he could become the target of the ships he had been hiding amongst, but if he could secure the help of the Rogues it would be worth it. 

The droid fighter was locked in his sights. He fired and the ship exploded. The Rogue he’d just saved came about, and a moment later the light indicating an incoming transmission illuminated on the comm. He hit the button.

“Anakin, is that you?” a woman’s voice came in over the comm. It took him a moment to realize who it was. 

“Padme?” he asked, “What are you doing here?”

“The princess had a change of heart, thanks to your efforts,” she said. Anakin had figured that much. What he couldn’t understand was how Padme had ended up leading a fighter squadron. He knew that wasn’t her normal role in the militia, but as the Neimoidian cruiser next to him turned its guns his way, he decided further questions could wait. He’d given up his disguise, now it was time to go. 

“If you could tell your friends not to shoot me, I’d appreciate it,” he said as he increased power to the engines and pulled his ship up and out of the way of the impending attack. The laser cannon fire meant for him hit the cruiser that had been sitting on his other side. Knowing he was unlikely to be so lucky again, Anakin began a series of dives and rolls, avoiding the blaster fire as best he could. 

"I've alerted them to your presence, but you've got to get out of here. Those Neimoidians may not be much to worry about, but Maul's troops are starting to take notice," she said. 

Anakin looked out the viewport and saw that she was right. A full squadron of fighters, piloted by Maul's clones, was headed for him. Anakin weaved through the enemy cruisers, determined not to give them a clear target, but the Neimoidian cruiser wasn't as maneuverable as the freighter he was used to, and several torpedoes found their mark. His engines were beginning to fail and the cockpit was washed in red from all the warning lights. He could smell smoke. This was not good.

“Get out of there Anakin!” Padme shouted through the comm. Anakin leapt from the pilot’s chair and ran to the back of the ship, opening the hatch of the only escape pod. Through some miracle, it was still functional. He jettisoned the pod toward the hangar bay of the  _ Menace _ , not even taking the time to strap in. He was thrown about as the pod hurtled forward into space. Through the tiny viewport, Anakin could just see the yellow flames of the exploding ship he had been on only seconds before. He could also see Padme’s fighter racing toward him, giving him cover.

The escape pod hit the floor of the hangar bar with jarring force, throwing Anakin into the other side of it. It began to spin, and he could hear the grating sound of metal against metal. He tried to brace himself against the walls of the pod, but it proved ineffective as it came to a sudden and violent halt against the hangar wall and he was once more tossed from one end to the other. He got up slowly, trying to refocus his spinning vision. 

He popped the hatch and stumbled out onto the floor. A few meters away he saw Padme’s fighter, half crumpled against the far wall. He heard banging and realized it was the sound of her boots against the cockpit, and a moment later it gave way and opened. She scrambled out of the ruined ship and rushed over to him. She pulled of her helmet as she knelt next to him on the floor, where he sat propped against the escape pod, still shaken from his violent landing.

“Are you alright?” she asked, taking his face in her hands and looking at him closely. He managed to focus his eyes on her. The world had stopped spinning. He nodded slowly. She stood and held out her hand. He grabbed it and she pulled him up. “Well, we are going to need another way off this ship, that’s for sure,” she said, surveying the wreckage of her fighter.

“I’m not going anywhere without my mother and Obi-Wan,” Anakin said. She looked back to him. For a moment he thought she was going to argue, but instead she nodded.

“Alright,” she said, “what’s your plan?” If Anakin was being honest, he didn’t really have one at this point. But he wasn’t about to admit that to Padme.

“We need to figure out where they hold prisoners,” Anakin said, figuring it was as good a place to start as any. Padme nodded.

“Detention level, it’s on deck three, midships,” she said knowledgeably. She seemed to be going through some kind of mental map in her head. “This is the aft starboard hangar, deck twelve, so we need a lift. There should be one not too far from here,” she said, already starting to walk in the direction of one of the corridors connected to the hangar. Anakin stared at her. 

“How do you know so much about this ship?” he asked, impressed.

“I’m the tactical commander for the Rogues,” she said, with just a touch of frustration that he would be surprised by her competence, “and lucky for you, I read all the intelligence briefings,” she added. She pulled her blaster from it’s holster and gestured down the corridor. “So if you follow my lead, we might actually make it out of here alive.” With that she turned and started off, leaving Anakin hurrying to catch up. He certainly hoped she was right.


	12. Duel of the Fates

 

** Duel of the Fates  **

The hatch at the end of the maintenance corridor popped open as Obi-Wan pulled the handle, and he jumped down into the main hallway of the detention level. Obi-Wan steadied himself as another series of blasts rocked the _Menace._ This area of the ship, near its ventral side, had taken some heavy hits in the battle. Only part of the corridor lights were still functioning, and orange sparks from exploded terminals provided the rest of the illumination. The entire section seemed to be abandoned.

The Jedi checked his position on the one functioning terminal he could find, then moved swiftly and silently down the corridor towards the brig. He arrived at a door and it opened without a code, it’s circuitry malfunctioning from the damage to the ship. On the other side, he expected to find Sola Skywalker still held as a prisoner. Instead, he walked into a half-destroyed corridor flanked by two empty cells. She was gone.

Obi-Wan stroked his beard thoughtfully. If Sola had escaped, her next move would be to find a way off the _Menace_. He would have to check the hangars, and quickly. The Jedi knew he couldn’t linger. It was only a matter of time before someone arrived in an attempt to secure the escaped prisoners. He could sense something was approaching. He turned and punched the controls to open the door, but stopped short as he was about to step through. Someone was standing in the corridor ahead of him, only half-visible in the dim light.

The man standing before him was clad all in black. The hood of his cloak was up, concealing most of his face, but as he raised his head Obi-Wan could make out two burning yellow eyes. He felt the same sensation that had plagued him above Geonosis, and again at the outpost. A palpable darkness and rage, coursing through the Force. And now he was face to face with it.

“General Kenobi, we meet at last,” Maul said as he lowered his hood, revealing his red and black skin and horned scalp. Obi-Wan recognized his species as one native to Dathomir, a strange planet with an unusual relationship to the Force. Perhaps Maul was nothing more than an overly ambitious protege of the Nightsisters. Then again, perhaps not.

“Darth Maul,” Obi-Wan said, his hand already on his lightsaber. “You are more than a rumor afterall.”

“Oh yes, Master Jedi. I am more.” From beneath his robes Maul held up an extraordinarily long lightsaber hilt, and as he ignited it, a red blade emitted from each end. “Much more.”

*******

Padme kept her blaster up as she ran through the corridors of the _Menace_ , with Anakin following close behind. The hangar they had just come from had been devoid of activity, Padme assumed that was because all the fighters assigned to it had already been launched. So far, the corridor they were headed down was empty too, but Padme didn’t expect their luck to hold out too much longer. However, she wasn’t planning on relying on luck alone.

As they ran, she checked the codes posted beside each door until she finally found what she was looking for. She stopped beside a closed door and Anakin came to a halt beside her. She gestured for him to hold his position as she shifted to the other side of the door. She pointed to Anakin’s blaster, shaking her head, and he nodded, holstering it. They had to keep it quiet. Staying pressed against the wall, she tapped the barrel of her blaster on the door three times, waited a beat, then tapped it twice more.

The door hissed open and two Separatist clone technicians emerged from it. Anakin jumped forward at the clone nearest him, smashing his head against the wall and knocking him out. Padme backhanded the other with the butt of her blaster.

“Hey! What are you-” Anakin’s punch floored the third technician still inside the room before he could finish his question. Padme sat down at the terminal, but the tech had managed to lock it before he went down. Cursing under her breath, Padme jammed a series of buttons on the console, but the screen remained locked. Anakin was beside her, hovering over her shoulder. She looked up at him, then jerked a thumb in the direction of the knocked out clones.

“There’s a storage room two doors down, lock the clone techs in there,” she ordered, still trying to unlock the terminal.

“Shouldn’t we take their uniforms? For a disguise?” he asked.

“Those uniforms are only worn by clones, we’d be spotted in no time.”

“Right,” Anakin said, bending over and grabbing the legs of the nearest clone.

As Anakin dragged the bodies out, Padme ducked under the terminal and started pulling out wires, trying to remember what Commander Organa had taught her about how to hack into computer systems.  She jumped back as she received a small electrical jolt from mismatching two wires. “Where’s an astromech when you need one?” she muttered to herself. She switched the wires and popper her head back up to look at the screen. It had unlocked.

“Got it!” She scrolled through the readout, looking for the alarm system for their sector. “Keep a lookout,” she told Anakin as he re-entered the terminal room, having disposed of the last of the clones. Padme scanned the screen. She needed something that would keep this sector of the ship clear.

“Dioxis, perfect,” she said, activating the alarm for the deadly gas in their sector. The lights above them went red as the alarm came on, followed by a low, patterned beeping. “That should help keep out any unwelcome company.” As she prepared to shut down the terminal, something caught her eye, an already active warning coming through the system. She scrolled over and opened it.

“I don’t think Captain Skywalker is on the detention level,” she said.

“What? Why do you say that?” he asked, glancing over at her but keeping his position by the door.

“According to this, that entire deck is compromised,” she said, reading the screen. “And all prisoners have been reported missing.” She continued to check the readouts, looking for another clue as to the captain’s whereabouts. “Look at this, there was some kind of attack in one of the starboard hangars, the one opposite where we landed. One assailant...looks like whoever it was managed to do some pretty serious damage to a Separatist launch crew based on this casualty report.”

“That sounds like her,” Anakin said. Padme agreed. She swiveled around and stood up.

“Let’s go find out.”

***

Obi-Wan lunged to his right just as the whirring heat of his opponent’s double-bladed red lightsaber came crashing down where he had stood only a moment earlier. Maul’s black and red face contorted into a snarl, his yellow eyes blazing with hatred as he prepared to strike another blow. Obi-Wan raised his lightsaber, blocking Maul’s blade. The force of Maul’s strike nearly knocked him off balance, but he held his own, keeping his blue blade locked against his enemy’s.

He pushed back, forcing Maul to retreat slightly and giving himself the room to maneuver out of the close confines of the brig. He knew he had to force Maul back down the corridor or risk being trapped. Obi-Wan swung hard again, but Maul was prepared this time and blocked him easily. The Jedi felt a painful tug as he strained the still unhealed wound in his side. Maul saw him grimace, and smiled perversely.

“You are weak, Jedi,” he said, pushing Obi-Wan back. The Jedi stumbled, but stayed upright, ready as Maul went on the offensive once again. “Your powers will never be equal to that of a Sith.” Obi-Wan summoned his strength and pushed back hard against Maul’s lightsaber, surprising him into a brief retreat. The Jedi lunged forward, pressing his advantage. Beyond Maul’s shoulder, Obi-Wan could make out the lights of a hangar.

He forced his opponent into the intersection of two corridors. Making use of the additional space, Kenobi ducked under Maul’s next strike and came out behind the Sith Lord. Obi-Wan charged down the corridor toward the hangar, followed by Maul. The Sith Lord caught Obi-Wan just as he reached the opening into the hangar, forcing the Jedi to turn and fend off the attack.

As they emerged into the open space of the hangar, Maul’s fighting style became more acrobatic. Obi-Wan realized he’d lost a key advantage by leaving the close confines of the corridor. With room to maneuver at last, Maul’s dual blades became a whirring implement of death the wounded Jedi could barely defend against.

Obi-Wan could feel the fatigue overtaking him. He could feel the darkness radiating from Maul, giving him power, adding strength to his blows. The hatred flowing through the Force was palpable, but the Force was Obi-Wan’s ally as well. The Jedi centered himself in the Force and raised his hand, sending Maul flying backwards into the air, and buying himself a few moments reprieve from the Sith’s relentless onslaught. Maul quickly sprang back to his feet.

“Perhaps you are stronger than I thought,” Maul said as he had advanced on Obi-Wan. “But you are still no match for the power of the dark side.”

“Even if you kill me, the light will conquer the darkness,” Obi-Wan said calmly, “as it has always done.” Maul laughed coldly as he struck at Obi-Wan again. Maul leaned in close, bringing his face dangerously near to the sizzling, interlocked blades.

“We shall see, Jedi,” he snarled as he pushed back against Obi-Wan’s blade, “We shall see.”

*******

The tide of Separatists seemed to be moving against Sola as she pushed through them, trying to get to the port side of the _Menace._ As she tried to move through an intersection, a fast moving platoon on the march caught her unawares and she was knocked down. Her Separatist helmet fell off and skittered away across the floor, kicked out of reach by the mass of people.

Someone grabbed her and pulled her up. She looked around, surprised. A Separatist naval officer gave her a small nod. “Don’t want to go that way Sergeant,” he said with a quick glance at the insignia on her jacket.

“Why? What’s going on?” she asked as he continued down the hall.

“Dioxis leak!” he called back.

“Perfect,” Sola muttered as she pressed forward against the flow of traffic. The throngs began to thin as she approached Sector Nine. All its doors seemed to be sealed, with warnings flashing from their control panels. Alone in the corridor, Sola removed the stolen Separatist jacket and tore out part of the lining, tying it around her nose and mouth. She would take her chances with the Dioxis. She had to get to the hangar on the other side of those doors.

Taking a deep breath, she hit the controls to open the door to Sector Nine, and cautiously passed through it, sealing the door behind her. The corridor was illuminated with red warning lights, and there was a low beep coming from the comms, but there didn’t seem to be any sign of the supposed Dioxis gas.

Sola pulled off her makeshift face covering and started toward the hangar, but stopped after only a few steps. She sensed something. She closed her eyes, reaching out through the Force. It was Anakin. He was here.

She changed direction, moving toward her son’s presence. She could sense his fear and it compounded her own. She had to get to him and get them both of this hellish ship before anything else went wrong. Her pace quickened to a run as she felt his presence grow closer. She sensed that he was not alone. As she sped through two intersection corridors she caught a glimpse of something in her peripheral vision and skidded to a halt as a voice called out to her.

“Captain!” She turned. It was Anakin. Waves of relief washed over her as he ran down the hall. He was alive, he was safe, and now he was back under her protection. She grabbed Anakin in a tight hug, hardly daring to believe that he was alright. She felt some of her fear melt away now that they were reunited. She knew it would have been best if he hadn’t come for her at all, but at least now she could keep an eye on him. Maul hadn’t gotten to him yet. There was still time to save him, time for both of them to escape.

Sola released Anakin at last, and turned to his companion. She recognized the young woman as a leader of the Rogues. They had met before, briefly. She wasn’t sure why a Rogue commander would be accompanying her son on a half-baked rescue mission, but she opted not to pry.

“Commander Naberrie,” she said with a nod.

“Captain Skywalker,” Padme said, inclining her head in return. The ship was jolted by blasts from the battle outside. Sola steadied herself against the corridor wall. She wondered how much more punishment Maul’s ship could take.

“We have to get out of here, and quickly,” she said. “There’s a hangar in this sector I’ve been trying to reach.”

“We’ve just come from there, it’s been emptied of ships, there’s nothing left there,” Padme said. Sola sighed with annoyance.

“What about escape pods?” she asked, but Padme shook her head.

“Too risky, no pod can survive the firefight out there unprotected. I crash landed covering Anakin’s bail out.” Sola looked back at Anakin, frowning as she noticed the bruise developing on his left cheek. She tried not to think about what kind of danger he had been in during this ‘bail out’ the commander was talking about. Anakin, however, had other things on his mind.

“It doesn’t matter how we get off the ship,” he said. “First we have to find Obi-Wan.”

“The Jedi can take care of himself,” Sola said, waving a hand dismissively.

“He risked a lot to try and help us. He boarded the ship before it left Alderaan and was supposed to free you after he sabotaged the comm array,” he said.

“We’ll then either we missed each other,” Sola said skeptically, “or he never had any intention of releasing me in the first place.”

“He wouldn’t betray us,” Anakin insisted. “We have to find him.” Sola felt a fresh wave of annoyance at Anakin’s obsession with saving the Jedi. It was his unfortunate inclination to help Kenobi that had gotten them into this mess to begin with. There was more to it than that, if Sola was being honest with herself. She was afraid of losing her son, afraid that he would be pulled into the Jedi Order by Kenobi. She stayed silent, trying to find the words to convince Anakin to give up on finding his Jedi friend, but Padme spoke up first.

“There is another hangar bay near the detention level, the one used primarily for deploying larger spacecraft,” she said. “Obi-Wan might be in that area. The ventral corridor will take us there.”

“Back into the belly of the ship you mean?” Sola asked with a frown. “I don’t much care for that idea.”

“It’s our best chance for getting out of here alive,” Padme said with a shrug, looking to Sola. Anakin turned to her as well. She hesitated, but nodded at last. The commander was right. It was their best hope.

The trio found a lift and took it down to the lower decks. Padme took the lead, followed by Anakin, with Sola bringing up the rear. Her nerves were on edge. The wideness of the ventral corridor made her feel exposed. She could sense Maul’s presence. He was close, and he was angry. She could feel it.

Anakin stopped suddenly and the others did the same. “Wait...wait!” he hissed. Sola felt it now too. There were people up ahead, lots of them. She raised her blaster just as two platoons of clone troopers rounded the corner. Taking advantage of the surprise of the clone troopers, they managed to take down the first four or five troopers before the others realized what was happening, but they were still far outnumbered.

Padme grabbed something from her utility belt and threw it at the clones. The device exploded, choking the hallway with smoke and fire. “To hell with that, come on!” the young commander shouted as she backed down the hallway, still firing at the clones. Sola and Anakin followed, firing over their shoulders. Padme turned several times before finally signalling for the group to stop. They all leaned against the corridor walls, breathing heavily.

“So much for the ventral corridor,” Anakin said, still gasping for air. “Where do we go now?”

“Follow me.” Padme led them down another series of corridors, finally coming to a large blast door. She pulled open the panel and hotwired the controls, opening the doors. Anakin and Sola followed her into a cavernous room.

“It’s a fighter launch hold,” Sola said as they walked out onto the catwalk that wrapped around the edge of the circular chasm.

“That’s right, and it should take us to the hangar,” Padme said as she started up the suspended metal ramp. “We just have to hope no one launches while we’re in here.”

“I don’t think we have to worry. Look.” Anakin pointed below them to a Separatist fighter that had lodged awkwardly in the launch shaft. It was blocking any ships from getting out of the hold.

“We were bound to get lucky eventually,” Padme said. Sola followed Anakin up the ramp, her mind still drawn to Maul’s presence. She felt it drawing nearer all the time. It was hard to ignore the hate and rage he sent pulsating through the Force.

As they neared the top of the launch shaft, strange sounds began to drift down from above. At first, Sola didn’t recognize it. It certainly wasn’t blaster fire. Anakin heard it to. He turned back to her, perplexed.

“What is that?” he asked. Sola shrugged, shaking her head, but as the edge of the launch shaft came into view and the sounds became more distinct, she was hit with a jolt of recognition. She knew that sound. She had heard it before, many, many years ago. It was the clash of lightsabers.

“It’s Obi-Wan!” Anakin exclaimed in an excited whisper as they joined Padme at the top of the launch shaft where they could see into the hangar. He started to climb up out of the shaft but Sola grabbed him and pulled him down.

“Stay out of sight!” she hissed. It was Obi-Wan alright, but he wasn’t alone. She could see Maul too, locked in furious combat with the Jedi. As she watched the duel she could see Obi-Wan was struggling. Sola felt the same creeping sense of dread that had haunted her shortly before her capture at the outpost.

“There’s a shuttle, I bet we can reach it,” Padme said pointing to a small vessel about a hundred meters away from their position.

“What about Obi-Wan?” Anakin asked.

“None of us are getting out of here without a ship,” Padme said. Anakin started to protest but Sola interjected.

“The commander is right. Securing a method of escape comes first,” Sola said. Anakin nodded reluctantly. One by one they pulled themselves up and over the edge of the launch shaft and into the hangar, staying low, moving carefully from one place of cover to the next.

The trio ran up the open gangway of the shuttle. Padme sat down in the pilot’s seat, flipping switches and bringing the systems online. Anakin dropped into the seat next to her, but Sola stayed back near the gangway, keeping her blaster drawn. The hangar appeared to be devoid of Separatist soldiers, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

Lights began to come on inside the cockpit and Sola could hear the gentle hum of the ship powering up, but when Padme moved to start the shuttle’s engines, there was only a strained sputtering sound. Sola’s heart sank.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Power is on...but the engine won’t engage,” Padme said, trying again to get the engines to respond.

“Sounds like one of the power stabilizers is out,” Anakin said.

“Well, I guess now we know why this shuttle was left behind,” Padme said wryly. Sola sighed heavily and began looking around the shuttle for the tools she would need. She kicked open a tool trunk and found the hydrospanner she was looking for.

“I’ll take care of it,” she said, brandishing the hydrospanner. She started toward the gangway and Anakin jumped up to follow her out.

“I’ll come with you,” he said. She turned back around, shaking her head.

“No, stay with the commander,” she told him. He started to argue but Sola held up her hand. “I’ve fixed a thousand stabilizers, it won’t take long,” she said, trying to reassure him. “Stay here and make sure the other systems are operational,” she added.

He gave her a sullen look, but Sola would not acquiesce, and Anakin knew it. He finally nodded, though Sola could sense his reluctance. “Yes, captain,” he said. She placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze, then turned and walked down the gangway.

*******

Maul came at Obi-Wan, hard and fast, bombarding the Jedi with a series of strikes. Obi-Wan blocked each of Maul’s attacks in turn, but Maul could see that exhaustion was beginning to set in. As their blades locked, Maul felt Obi-Wan’s knees begin to buckle under the pressure. He could sense the Jedi’s pain.  It would soon be over.

 

Disengaging his blade, Maul whirled it around, building momentum for another powerful strike. Kenobi raised his lightsaber, and managed to knock the blow aside, but only just. The Jedi backed up, trying to find some relief from Maul’s onslaught, but the Sith Lord charged at him again. Maul could feel how close he was to victory.

Parrying Maul’s next strike, Obi-Wan stumbled back, and Maul took advantage of the moment, bringing the other side of his lightsaber around with lightning speed, he struck at the back of Obi-Wan’s thigh. The Jedi cried out as he sank to one knee; his left leg had collapsed, unable to support his weight.

Maul lashed out again, and Obi-Wan blocked it one-handed, but as Maul leaned into his blade the Jedi had to brace himself against the floor with his free hand. Maul reversed position, bringing the other side of the lightsaber around into a powerful upswing against Kenobi’s blade. The weapon flew out of Obi-Wan’s grip and clattered away across the metal floor of the hangar.

Maul slashed down, aiming for the kill, but the Jedi rolled away and the red blade sizzled as it sliced through the floor. Maul summoned the Force and reached out his hand toward Kenobi, pulling the Jedi back toward him. Obi-Wan struggled, but he could not break Maul’s hold. Maul felt the Jedi’s fear, and it fed his power. Victory was close. So close.

*******

Sola quickly maneuvered the hydrospanner at the rear of the shuttle, loosening the bolts that held the power stabilizer in place. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the battle between Maul and Obi-Wan. Things did not seem to be going well for the Jedi.

Wrenching her gaze away she pulled the panel free and reached into the engine casing, rerouting a series of wires to the stabilizer to reconnect it to the power. A low hum emerged from the stabilizer as energy surged through it. Sola quickly replaced the panel she’d removed and banged on the hull of the ship, letting Padme and Anakin know the repair was complete. The engines began to glow bright blue as they came back online.

She ducked under the shuttle, headed for the gangway, when she heard Kenobi cry out from across the hangar. She stopped, crouched in the shadow of the shuttle, and watched as the Jedi collapsed under Maul’s attack. She could feel the malice flowing through the Force as Maul prepared to vanquish his enemy.

Sola moved quickly. Her body did not seem to be entirely within her control, but she walked with purpose and certainty. She knew what had to be done. Maul stood over the Jedi, his lightsaber raised to kill. She walked out into the open hangar, raised her blaster, took aim at Maul, and fired.

Maul sensed the attack just in time to try and evade it, but the blaster bolt still struck his shoulder and he doubled over, letting out an inhuman growl of pain. Sola saw Obi-Wan quickly pushing himself backwards from the wounded Sith, trying to get out of range of his lightsaber. But he needn’t have worried. All of Maul’s attention was focused on Sola now.

He turned and fixed his yellow eyes on her. She felt cold fear creeping through her veins and took a deep breath, attempting to find a place of calm. Every fiber of her being told her to run, but she stayed where she was. The time for running was over.

She knew Maul would never stop hunting her, or Anakin. She would put an end to this here and now, or die in the attempt. She only hoped Anakin would have the good sense to escape while he could. She tightened her grip on the blaster and kept it pointed at Maul.

Maul began to walk toward her, grimacing slightly at the pain from his wounded shoulder. Sola knew the injury might slow him, but she had seen him fight through worse. She would have to do a lot more if she wanted to defeat him.

“That feeble weapon will do you no good here,” Maul said, eyeing her blaster. Sola lowered the weapon. He was right. She threw it aside.  

“You want to run, I can feel it,” he said as he came closer. “And why not? It is all you have ever done,” he chided her. Sola remained where she was, her jaw clenched with resolve as she shook her head.

“Not this time,” she said. There was a slight tremor in her voice. She wasn’t certain if it was caused by anger or fear.

“It makes little difference to me,” he said, leering at her as he took another step forward. “I will cut you down, whether you flee or stand your ground.”

“I do not fear you,” she said firmly, holding his gaze. As she said it, she felt the cold leave her body. It was true. She didn’t fear him anymore. She felt the power of the Force flowing through her and for the first time in years she embraced it fully. She was ready to face down the demons that had haunted her for so long. Maul smirked. He was now only a few meters away.

“Then you are either a liar...or a fool!” He lunged at her with his lightsaber and Sola leapt back, dodging just under the humming red blade. She sidestepped Maul’s lightsaber as he brought it down for another strike, moving not away from him but towards him, knowing his long weapon would be less useful in close quarters.

She punched him hard in his wounded shoulder and he retreated, but she moved in again quickly, before he could recover. She grabbed the hilt of his lightsaber, trying to wrest it from his hands. He was very strong, but she held on, refusing to let go.

As they tussled over his weapon she saw the hilt of her knife, tucked into the back of his belt. Maul made the mistake of leaning his face too close to the contested hilt and she thrust her hands up, knocking the hilt into his chin. He reeled back and Sola charged forward, sliding on her knees to avoid Maul’s blade. As she passed behind him she grabbed her knife from his belt and tumbled away from him as he brought his lightsaber around.

She came up on one knee, brandishing the knife. It felt right to have the familiar weight of her vibroblade back in her hand, though her knees were protesting being put through their paces. She was not as young as she once was. Maul looked murderous as he stared at the vibroblade, but then he let out a low, derisive laugh.

“Impressive,” he said sourly, “but that blade will not be enough to save you. Not this time.”

Sola rose to her feet and took a few careful steps backward as Maul advanced. He raised his blade and swung it downward with a heavy, two-handed blow. She blocked the strike with her knife, the red laser blade sparking against the ancient metal. Maul quickly turned and struck at her again from the other side. She got her knife around in time, but her weapon had neither the reach nor the leverage of Maul’s longer blade. Getting close enough to land a blow would be both difficult and dangerous.

She jumped backwards, forcing Maul to come after her. She parried and retreated across the hangar, but Maul was on more careful guard now and presented her with no opportunities to get in close. She couldn’t keep up such a deadly dance forever.

Maul closed the gap between them and landed a hard kick to her ribs, a blow that sent Sola sprawling backwards several meters. She scrambled to get back to her feet as Maul came towards her, his eyes glowing. She sensed movement to her left and saw Kenobi, propped up on one elbow, extending his hand out towards something. She heard the clank of metal and saw a small object zip into the Jedi’s hand from across the hangar.

“Sola!” Obi-Wan shouted out to her as he threw the object in her direction. Sola reached out and Kenobi’s lightsaber came flying into her hand. She ignited the blade, feeling the powerful hum of the weapon vibrate through her arm. She had never held a lightsaber before, and yet it felt immediately familiar, like a natural extension of her arm. Maul stopped dead in his tracks and turned to face the Jedi.

“Jedi scum!” Maul howled in fury at Obi-Wan. He thrust out his hand, and the Jedi Knight was lifted high into the air and hurtled toward the hangar wall. Sola watched Obi-Wan hit the dursasteel bulkhead with a hard thud and then slide down it, landing in an unconscious heap on the floor.

Maul turned back to her, his yellow eyes blazing as he stepped towards her. “No more help from your Jedi friend. Now it just you and I. As it was always destined to be,” he said, swinging his lightsaber back into a ready position.

“I stopped believing in destiny a long time ago,” Sola said. She held the lightsaber in front of her and flipped the vibroblade into a reverse grip in her other hand. She was ready to end this fight.

*******

Padme and Anakin watched the duel unfolding in the hangar, powerless to help. They had both watched, stunned, as Sola attacked the Sith Lord. The nervous tension in the shuttle cockpit was thick as they looked on. When the captain threw away her blaster, Padme saw Anakin’s hands ball into tight fists. She did not need the skills of a Jedi to sense his fear and anger.

“Bring up the guns,” he said, not taking his eyes from his mother, “We can fire on him.” Padme shook her head.

“Forget it, you’ll never get a clean shot,” she told him. He looked at her, seemingly about to argue, but a shout from the Jedi caused them both to spin back around to the viewport. Obi-Wan was raised high into the air and slammed against the far wall, which he then slid down, slumping to the floor. Captain Skywalker now held the Jedi’s lightsaber. Anakin rose from his seat.

“We can’t just sit here, we have to do something,” he said.

“And what do you propose exactly?” Padme asked, trying to make him see reason. “Maul would crush us, we are no match for him.” Anakin didn’t argue with that, but it didn’t take long for him to come up with another idea.

“What about Obi-Wan? I bet we could reach him,” he said, turning his gaze toward the collapsed Jedi. “I’m going out there,” he said. He turned and started down the gangway.

“Anakin!” Padme called after him, staying in her seat. She waited a moment, but there was only silence. She knew he wasn’t coming back. “Damn him,” she muttered under her breath, then grabbed her blaster and followed him into the hangar.

Anakin was crouched in the shadows beneath the shuttle, his blaster drawn. Padme crept up next to him. She could see Obi-Wan, but he was on the other side of the hangar. The captain seemed to have Maul well-occupied, and the fight was drifting further away from the shuttle, back towards the launch shaft they had come up from earlier. There was good cover available along the path between them and the Jedi. They might actually be able to pull this off.

“Right, stay low and follow me,” she whispered to Anakin. “And try not to do anything foolish.”

*******

This time, Sola struck first, emboldened by the addition of the lightsaber to her arsenal. She swung the blue blade at Maul and felt the power of it as it crackled against his own laser sword. The centered herself in the Force, allowing it to flow through her and direct her actions. She could sense Maul’s uncertainty. For the first time, he was afraid.

She spun around, slashing at him with her knife, then spun again to attack with the lightsaber, continuing to alternate her attacks, driving Maul back. He matched her pace, but he did not thrive fighting on the defensive. Desperate to change the direction of the fight, he knocked her backwards with the Force. Sola somersaulted out of his Force push, landing on her feet, her weapons raised.

Maul sprinted toward her, his two blades whirling dangerously. He struck hard and with tremendous speed. Sola raised both the lightsaber and her knife against the attack, crossing the blades to stop his strike. She pulled the blades apart, forcing Maul’s lightsaber back in the process, and aimed a mighty downstroke at his head with the lightsaber. He dodged it and brought the other side of his lightsaber up toward her back, but she turned in time, blocking his attack with her knife.

She wheeled around and renewed her attack, once again making Maul take a defensive posture. She could sense that he was growing weaker. She aimed a kicked at the hilt of his lightsaber that sent it sailing out his hands and over both of their heads. Sola knew this was her chance.

Calling upon the Force she threw Maul into the wall before he could summon the blade back to him, holding him there, using the Force to press against his windpipe. He struggled, gasping and clutching at his throat. She pulled her hands back and he fell to the floor in front of her. He raised himself to his knees and looked up at her. She held Obi-Wan’s lightsaber to his chest, almost close enough to singe his tunic. He held up his hands.

“I am beaten.” he said, his eyes boring into hers. “End it.”

She could kill him and it would all end. But something stopped her, something...familiar. She had been here before. The memory flashed across her mind, as clearly as if it had occurred the previous day. The unconscious Zabrak boy lying unconscious at her feet, his face bleeding from a savage cut, and she, standing above him, with the power to end his life, or spare it. How many times had she berated herself for the choice she made? But now, faced with it again, she realized it was the only choice she could make. Otherwise, she was no better than the master she had fled.

“Some things never change, do they Sola?” Maul said, smiling wickedly. “You are as weak as ever, and this time your mercy will cost you your life!” Sensing what was about to happen, Sola lunged forward with the Jedi’s blade but Maul was ready. He dodged to the side. Sola’s momentum carried her forward, but she was off-balance. Behind her, she heard a snap-hiss.

As she turned to try and block it, the red blade seared through her torso. She gasped and immediately felt a crushing agony in her chest. She heard Anakin cry out as she dropped to her knees. Her vision blurred. As she tried to breathe each shallow gasp sent unbearable pain through her body. Death had come for her at last. It was only a matter of time now. She could sense Maul looming over her, but he did not strike her down. He seemed to be waiting for something. As her strength began to fail, she slumped to the floor, still clutching Obi-Wan’s lightsaber.


	13. Fight and Flight

**Fight and Flight**

“NO!” Anakin screamed across the hangar as he jumped up from his hiding place. Dodging Padme’s attempt to stop him, he ran towards his mother. She was still alive, he could feel her presence, and her pain. It overwhelmed his senses. Anakin raised his blaster as he charged recklessly toward Maul, squeezing off several rounds as he ran. 

The Sith Lord raised his hand and the red blaster bolts ricocheted harmlessly off his black glove. Anakin felt a sharp tug and his blaster flew from his hand and into the grasp of Darth Maul. Before Anakin could fully register what was happening, he felt his whole body leave the floor. He flew past Maul and crashed into a stack of storage containers several meters away. 

Anakin remained on the floor for a few moments, trying to catch his breath. Slowly and shakily, he stood, clutching his ribs where they had impacted the hard surface of one of the containers. He turned to face Maul. The Sith Lord was standing a few meters away, calmly appraising his new foe, holding his lightsaber at his side, its blades deactivated. 

“Your anger is palpable,” the Sith Lord said, watching Anakin with his fierce yellow eyes. Anakin felt an unwelcome presence probing his mind. “You want to kill me,” Maul said with a sneer, “don’t you?” He kicked Sola’s knife across the floor towards Anakin. The ancient blade came to a stop just short of Anakin’s feet. “Give into your hatred,” Maul said, “if you dare.”

Anakin reached down and snatched up the knife. He hesitated for a  moment. The fear was beginning to creep in now. Maul watched him, a grin of satisfaction spreading across his face. “Perhaps you require some additional incentive?” The Sith Lord asked.  He stepped closer to where Sola lay prone on the floor, and, igniting only one half of his dual lightsaber, touched the end of the red blade to the fallen woman’s shoulder. 

Sola’s scream echoed through the hangar as she writhed in pain. Anakin leapt forward, swinging his mother’s knife savagely, desperate to stop the torment. Maul brought his lightsaber up to block Anakin’s attack. As the vibroblade met the lightsaber, sparks flew through the air. Through their locked blades, Anakin could see Maul grinning maniacally. 

*******

“We’ve lost three of the port engines, sir! She’s listing!” Tarkin needed no bridge officer to tell him that, he could already feel the tilt beneath his feet as the  _ Menace  _ slipped further out of their control. The colonel gripped the bulkhead to steady himself as his mind raced, searching for a way out.

“Shut down Sector Twelve and reroute all power to the remaining port engines!” Tarkin barked as he tightened his grip on the bulkhead. 

“But sir, there are still crew in that sector!” The bridge officer responded, his eyes wide.

“Do as I say, lieutenant.” The young officer stared at him for a moment, then his fingers began to move over the console. The lights flickered as additional power surged through the ship. The officer at the helm regained control of the ship, and slowly, the Menace began to right itself. Tarkin felt a rush of relief. Then he saw the Mon Cala flagship activate its laser cannons. 

The large cruiser turned such that its immense battery of powerful cannon were pointed at the  _ Menace _ . Even as Tarkin ordered the deflectors reinforced the broadside volley began, ripping new holes in the already badly damaged vessel. As the ship pitched and rolled under the onslaught, Tarkin was thrown to the floor of the bridge. He felt the warmth of blood streaking his cheek as a piece of durasteel broke free from a bulkhead and grazed the side of his face. 

When the barrage stopped, Tarkin pulled himself to his feet, and wiped the blood from his face on the sleeve of his uniform. Through the viewport he could see not only the Mon Cala fleet, but more and more ships under the command of the Rogues launched from Alderaan, rapidly closing in on them. It was time to rethink his strategy.

“Sound the alarm, lieutenant,” Tarkin said, turning to the nearest bridge officer. “Abandon ship.”

*******

Anakin fought to keep his arms steady as Maul’s lightsaber pressed against the vibroblade. The blades were so close to his face he could feel the heat of the laser blade. Thinking quickly, he ducked under and around Maul’s blade, trying to come up behind his opponent, but Maul was too fast. He aimed a sharp kick at Anakin’s head, which sent him tumbling across the hangar. 

“You are no match for me, boy,” Maul said menacingly, moving toward Anakin as the young man found his footing once more. “Surrender, and I will spare your life.”

“Why should I believe you?” Anakin said, taking a few more steps back as Maul advanced.

“You are powerful, more so than you realize,” Maul said, still advancing on Anakin, who moved back still further, keeping a safe distance between himself and the humming red blade Maul wielded. “I can show you that power,” Maul offered, “in exchange for your loyalty.”

“That’s not a very tempting offer,” Anakin said, his eyes still focused on the lightsaber.

“Don’t be a fool, boy!” Maul said, impatient. “I know your mind. You have long yearned to know the ways of the Force, but they have been kept from you!” Anakin stopped his retreat. There was a gleam of victory in Maul’s eyes as he lowered his weapon and stretched out his hand to Anakin. “Leave ignorance behind, embrace your anger, embrace the power of the dark side,” the Sith Lord said rapturously, “I can teach you all you have ever wanted to know.” 

Anakin felt the truth of Maul’s words. He did want to learn the ways of the Force. He did want something beyond his meager existence on Tatooine. Perhaps...perhaps he should consider the Sith Lord’s offer. But even as he thought it he heard his mother’s voice in his head, faint, but insistent.  _ It’s a trap.  _ He raised his knife again. 

“You have nothing to teach me,” Anakin said, shaking his head, his jaw clenched with resolve. Maul’s eyes narrowed as his expression soured. Anakin could feel the anger and frustration emanating from the Sith Lord. If Maul had intended to let him live before, Anakin was willing to bet this plan had changed. He gripped the vibroblade more tightly. He wasn’t going to go down without a fight. 

Suddenly, the floor beneath them began to shift. The warning sirens began in earnest, a signal to abandon ship. The  _ Menace _ was failing. Anakin took advantage of Maul’s temporary distraction and charged forward, aiming the vibroblade at Maul’s heart. The Sith Lord twisted away as Anakin attacked, but he still managed to drive the knife into Maul’s chest. Impossibly strong arms grabbed Anakin and threw him to the ground as Maul cried out in agony. 

“Brave, boy, but you missed your mark,” Maul hissed as Anakin turned and looked up. He made no effort to stand. From his position on the floor he could feel the whole ship vibrating as it threatened to break apart. “And now, you have no weapon,” Maul said, as he looked down at the knife in his chest and barked out a short, cold laugh. 

The Sith Lord ignited his lightsaber, and turned his fearsome yellow eyes on Anakin. Fear coursed through Anakin’s body as Maul moved towards him, his lightsaber raised. Anakin scrambled back, frantic. It would take a miracle to save him now. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw his mother’s hand twitch. 

*******

The world was going dim, but Sola Skywalker was still in it. The Force had not claimed her yet. She could see her son, standing tall against Maul. Brave, but foolish. She had to do something, but her body refused to cooperate. She saw Anakin attack Maul, only to be thrown down.  She felt Maul’s anger. If she did nothing, she knew her son would die. 

The Force surrounded her. She was suspended between the light and the darkness. For the first time in her life, she felt the balance she had long sought, a place beyond good and evil. As the Force enveloped her she felt strength begin to flood back into her weakened form. She became aware of the weight of the lightsaber hilt still clutched in her hand. In her mind’s eye, she saw what she had to do.

Calling upon the Force, allowing it to control her actions in a way she had never attempted before, Sola pushed herself up, first to a kneeling position, and then fully to her feet. Her whole body was shaking from the effort, but her strength now came from a place beyond physical limitations. Maul was only a few meters away. The time to strike was now.

Sola ignited the lightsaber and lunged forward. Maul turned just in time, blocking her strike, but in this new place in the Force, hanging somewhere between the light and the dark, Sola was unbeatable. She saw all of Maul’s future movements as clearly as if they had already happened. For her, all motion seemed to be suspended in time, giving her an infinite opportunity to react. Kenobi’s lightsaber clashed against Maul’s once, twice, and then Sola pushed against Maul with the Force, sending him spinning away from her. 

As Maul’s back turned toward her, she summoned what remained of her strength and lunged, bringing the blue blade down diagonally through Maul’s body, slicing him open from shoulder to hip. Maul cried out in pain and fell to the floor, clutching at his back. He stared up at Sola, his yellow eyes wide with fear. Time began to return to normal speed now, and Sola knew her life was running out. If she was going to end Maul, it had to be now. She raised her hand and called once more upon the Force. 

Maul began to move, sliding, slowly at first, but then faster, across the durasteel floor. Maul scrambled, igniting his lightsaber and digging it into the floor panels as he tried to arrest his motion towards the open maw of the launch shaft, but his efforts were in vain. He let out in an inhuman wail as he fell into the pit, his arms flailing as he plummeted downward and out of sight.

Sola remained upright just long enough to see her enemy disappear over the edge, and then she collapsed, her eyes fluttering closed. Her hearing was muffled, but she could hear her son call out to her, and she felt his hands as they held her face. Hot tears streaked her face, and she knew they were not her own. With what energy remained in her, she clutched his hand in her own. She did not have the strength to speak, but she forced her eyes open, determined to see Anakin one last time.

For a moment, their eyes locked. Her vision was failing her, and Anakin faded in and out of focus. For the briefest moment there seemed to be two of him, one shrouded in light, the other in darkness. She could feel his presence in the Force. He was pleading with her not to leave him, but she knew that her time had come. The world around her grew dark, and Sola surrendered herself to the Force at last.

*******

Tarkin walked quickly but deliberately, a small cadre of officers and clone guards behind him, headed for the escape pods closest to the bridge. Around them, electric circuits exploded and cooling pipes spit hot steam. The corridor was awash in red lights and a warning siren blared. Tarkin could hardly believe it had come to this. 

“Sir, I think we’re being boarded!” An officer shouted as a series of sharp clangs echoed from outside. Tarkin grasped the console as the ship rocked ferociously, nearly sending him sprawling. He heard the hiss of the airlock as the Rogue cruiser attached itself to his vessel. 

“Stop them! At any cost, stop them!” Tarkin shouted, motioning for his troops to take up a position at the airlock to stop of the invading militia, but it was too late. A sharp blast echoed through the corridor as the door was breached and a swarm of enemy troops entered, blasters blazing. Tarkin dove under a console, out of the line of fire, and tried to crawl toward the escape pod on the far side of the corridor, but as the smoke began to clear he felt the icy touch of a blaster barrel against his neck and ceased his escape attempt.

Several pairs of hands dragged him unceremoniously to his feet. Around him, the corridor was littered with Separatist dead, mostly clones. A few of his comrades were also being held at blaster point. Tarkin could see the nervous sweat on their brows. They all feared the Rogues, and well they should. The Separatists had ravaged Alderaan, and they feared the retribution of its people. Now they were all face to face with that fear.

“Colonel Tarkin, I might have known,” a cool, feminine voice said from the shadows of the airlock. Tarkin squinted into the darkness as a figure emerged, her hands clasped behind her back, with guards flanking her on either side. The guard behind Tarkin pressed hard on his shoulders, forcing him down into a kneeling position.

“Princess Breha,” Tarkin said, looking up at the young woman who now stood before him. He recognized her from the portraits hanging in the Royal Palace. 

“Not the type to go down with your ship, are you colonel?” She asked, glowering down at him, her eyes blazing with righteous hatred. Tarkin glared back.

“This is war, Your Highness. There is no place for high-minded ideals here, as you well know,” he said with a sneer. The princess narrowed her eyes at him. He didn’t need Maul’s mysterious abilities to sense the young woman’s anger. 

“Do not compare your cowardice to the brave sacrifices of the people of Alderaan, you Separatist filth,” Breha said coldly, the color rising in her cheeks. “You will pay for all that you have done, I assure you,” she said. “Get him out of my sight,” she ordered with disgust, gesturing to the guards. They grabbed Tarkin under his arms, pulling him up roughly. As they led him away, he turned around as far as he was able, calling back to the princess. 

“It is Alderaan that will pay, princess, I promise you that,” he called out to her as the guards shoved him through the airlock. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the princess half-turn back towards him, just catching a glimpse of her silhouette, backlit by the red warning lights still flashing around them before the guards pushed him forward. Tarkin marched down the corridor of the enemy ship, resigning himself to his current predicament. It was useless to resist. He was a prisoner. For now. 

*******

Anakin stared into his mother’s unseeing blue eyes. Her body went limp in his arms, her grip on his hand suddenly relaxed, and there was the emptiness, the terrifying and inescapable void where once her presence had been. Where once she had dwelled, as much a part of him as his own flesh and blood and soul, now there was nothing. 

He felt removed from his body, as though his spirit had fled his physical form to try and escape the unbearable pain of this moment. He knew this feeling. He’d felt it before. The feeling that a part of him, a vital, integral part of him, had been ripped away and utterly destroyed, leaving him broken and undone. He’d felt it the day his father died. And he felt it again now. But this time...this time he felt sure it would destroy him.

But somewhere in the distance he heard a voice, a voice he knew, calling to him. It seemed very far away, but as he focused on it he realized the voice was right beside him. He felt the small but firm grip of a familiar hand on his shoulder. He looked over, first at the hand, then up at the person it was connected to. He knew that face.

“Anakin,” Padme said again, gently, still clutching his shoulder. He looked into her wide, brown eyes, brimming with concern, with urgency. “Anakin,” she said again, shaking him slightly as he continued to stare at her, “you have to help me carry Obi-Wan, I can’t do it alone.” She pointed to a prone figure on the other side of the hangar. Anakin registered the sound of the warning alarm blaring. He sensed the danger, but he turned back, shaking his head.

“I can’t leave her,” he said, turning away from Padme as hot tears streaked his face. Padme came around, kneeling in front of him, trying to force him to look at her.

“If you stay here, you’ll die,” Padme said firmly, “and Obi-Wan will die,” she continued, “and I’ll die, because I’m not going without you.” Anakin lifted his head and looked into Padme’s face. He saw no fear there, only a fierce determination. She meant it, she was going to die here with him if he wouldn’t leave. As he looked at her, her expression softened into one of sympathy. “You have to let her go, Anakin,” Padme said gently, still holding his gaze. 

Sparks began to shower down around them as the ship continued to collapse. Anakin knew Padme was right. Slowly, he nodded. With a slight tremor in his hand, he closed his mother’s eyes and gently laid her back on the cold metal floor of the hangar. Padme took his hand and pulled him up.

“We don’t have much time,” she said as sections of the hangar ceiling began to fall around them. She kept her hold on Anakin’s hand as they ran across the hangar to Obi-Wan. Together, they lifted the wounded Jedi and hurried back to the shuttle, dodging falling debris as they went. Once aboard, Anakin left Padme to help Obi-Wan strap into his seat as he took the helm, firing up the thrusters to point the small ship toward the exit. Through the viewport, Anakin caught one last glimpse of Sola’s body, lying still and peaceful amidst the destruction of the hangar. 

“Come on,” Padme said, strapping into the co-pilot’s seat next to him, and giving his forearm a quick squeeze, “let’s get out of here.” Anakin nodded, wrenching his eyes away from the fallen woman as the ship rose up the turned toward the opening of the hangar bay. As the wreckage of the Menace began to close in around them, Anakin gunned the engines and the shuttle rocketed forward, back into the velvety blackness of space.

*******

Maul awoke, splayed out against a hard metal surface. Shadows danced at the edge of his vision. His body was shattered. It wouldn’t be long now before death found him. A nearby bulkhead exploded as the electrical circuits overloaded, a symptom of the ship’s failing systems. He’d managed to slow his fall, directing his body to land on one of the ramps near the bottom of the launch shaft. 

Sola’s knife still protruded from his chest, but he didn’t dare remove it now, to do so would risk bleeding to death, and he couldn’t afford to weaken himself any further at the moment. He needed every ounce of his strength. His once proud flagship was dissolving around him. He had to flee the  _ Menace _ , or die.

He had landed within reach of a fighter that had jammed in the shaft during launch. If he could just reach it before the ship disintegrated. Maul attempted to push himself to his feet, but the lower half of his body refused to respond. He cursed Sola Skywalker as he struggled, but he wouldn’t give up, not yet. Maul pulled himself forward with his arms, dragging his now useless legs behind him. Every inch of movement was agony, but he used the pain to increase his strength and will himself to continue. 

At last he reached the fighter. His breathing was ragged and uneven, but he was able to wrench open the hatch of the cockpit and drag himself inside. Maul flipped switches, eventually coaxing the fighter’s engine to life, but the ship wouldn’t move, it was wedged firmly inside the launch shaft. Maul reached out through the Force, drawing power from the darkness, from his anger and his fear, and used it to turn the ship. He heard the scraping of metal on metal as the fighter began to shift. 

Beads of sweat formed on his red and black skin from the effort of moving such a large object, but just as he began to feel faint, the fighter broke free. Maul grabbed the controls, bringing the ship up and out of the launch shaft. He saw a shuttle disappear out of the hangar as his fighter crested the top of the shaft, but he could not pursue his enemies now. This had become a battle for survival. 

The fighter zipped forward as the hangar disintegrated into a ball of fire, and Maul barely cleared the blast as the  _ Menace _ went up in a series of bright explosions. Once again he found himself in a sea of destruction, but this time it was the Separatists that had suffered. Maul counted only a few dozen of the vessels under his command as still operational, and even as he watched, the ships that remained disappeared into hyperspace to escape the onslaught of the Rogues and the treacherous Mon Calamari.

He was alone, utterly abandoned by his once loyal troops. He knew that if he tried to fly in any direction he would be captured. He could already see a Separatist cruiser that had been boarded not too far from his position. Thinking quickly, he powered down his fighter, leaving only the most essential life support systems running. No scans would pick him up at such a low operational level. 

Maul closed his eyes, entering a state of deep meditation. His enemies would disappear before long. He could be patient. Afterall, he had waited his whole life to bring the revenge of the Sith down upon the Jedi and the Republic. He could wait a little longer.


	14. The Future in Motion

**The Future in Motion**

He was back on Tatooine. The twin suns were setting over the dunes. In the distance he could just make out the edges of a familiar figure. Then he heard his mother’s voice.

“He will come for you Anakin.”

“Who?” he asked her. “Who will come for me?”

“The Jedi can protect you,” she said, ignoring his question. “Learn the ways of the Force. That is your only hope.”

“Protect me from what?” he asked, trying to step forward, but his feet were frozen in place. The figure began to fade into the rippling horizon. He stretched out his hand. “Wait!” he called out. “Wait, don’t go! Don’t leave me!”

The sand beneath his feet began to glow and turn molten, and he sunk into it, unable to move. His skin crawled with fire. His vision went red, and his ears reverberated with the steady, unnerving sound of mechanical breathing.

Suddenly there was a tremendous boom and Anakin woke with a start, breathing hard, his body covered in a clammy sweat. He sat up in the semi-darkness, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. A second boom echoed around him and a bright spray of light shone through the narrow viewport, illuminating Padme’s silhouette as she stood in front of it. She turned to him.

“Fireworks,” she said with a small smile. “It’s nearly dawn and they are still setting off fireworks.” Anakin pulled a blanket around his shoulders and went to stand beside her. The sky was growing faintly pink as the sun began to rise, and Anakin could see the Rogue bombers and starfighters passing over the city, leaving behind them a trail of glittering explosions. 

As Anakin watched the display, Padme sat down on the edge of the bunk and began to fish around underneath it for her boots. Anakin shivered in the cool morning air and joined her on the bed, cocooning himself in the covers as Padme found her boots and pulled them on. 

“What are you getting dressed for?” he asked as she stood up, looking around the room for another errant item of her wardrobe. “It’s barely light out.”

“Breha’s asked me to meet her, something’s come up,” Padme said, distracted. She turned back to Anakin. “Have you seen my jacket?” He shrugged, shaking his head. She put her hands on her hips as her eyes scanned the room, but the jacket was nowhere to be seen. Padme checked her chronometer. “Damn, I’m going to be late.”

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” Anakin said as she slung her satchel over her shoulder. She smiled, leaning over the bunk and gave Anakin a quick kiss. 

“I’ll be back soon,” she said, moving toward the door. “Give things a few days to settle down and then we’ll get out of the city, go up to the mountains.”

“Is that a promise?” he asked. She turned back at the doorway.

“That’s a promise.”

*******

Obi-Wan emerged onto the balcony at the medical facility, walking slowly and leaning against the hastily constructed walking stick given to him by the Rogue medics. They had patched up his injuries but he would have to wait until he returned to Coruscant to undergo proper treatment. He stopped at the rail, looking down into the city of Aldera below him, it’s streets thronged with people celebrating the liberation of Alderaan.

“General Kenobi, the speeder you requested is ready,” an attendant announced, standing in the doorway behind him.

“Thank you.” Obi-Wan made his way to the lift and took it down to the street level. As promised, a speeder with a driver waited for him at the curb. The driver jumped out and opened the speeder’s side door to allow Obi-Wan to clamber in. The Jedi arranged his walking stick on on his lap and settled in as the driver returned to his seat.

“Where to, sir?” the driver inquired.

“Royal Palace, hangar bay.” The driver gave a quick nod and the speeder took off down the crowded streets of Aldera, dodging and weaving through the celebrants. Obi-Wan watched the people as they whirled by. They were all so happy, so proud of the victory against the Separatists. And yet, Obi-Wan felt a warning in his heart. 

His debrief with the Jedi Council had been sobering. He recalled the small gasps and worried whispers among the Council as he told them of the betrayal of the Republic troops at Geonosis, the Separatist clones, and the return of the Sith. He knew what they must all be thinking, for it was the same question that had been rattling around in his own mind.  _ How could the Jedi have been unaware of so much? _

And there were some things Obi-Wan had left out. Namely, his suspicions about Sola Skywalker’s connection to the Sith. He knew that if he revealed a possible link between Sola and the Jedi’s ancient enemy, they Council would never grant his request to take on her son as his apprentice. To deceive the Council was no small matter, but Obi-Wan felt a certain responsibility toward the boy after all that had happened. With the Council’s permission secured, he had the chance to offer Anakin a real future.

The speeder approached the towering spires of the palace and pulled into the hangar bay. It didn’t take Obi-Wan long to spot Sola Skywalker’s hodge-podge freighter among the elegant vessels owned by Alderaan’s royal family. He paid the driver and hobbled toward the  _ Outlander _ . 

Anakin was perched on top of the hull, his face illuminated by the blue sparks of his welding tool as he worked on a repair.  Obi-Wan rapped his walking stick against one of the landing struts, announcing his arrival. Anakin looked up from his work, and, spotting Obi-Wan, climbed down to the hangar floor.

“I see they finally let you out of that place,” Anakin said as he came down, wiping the grease from his hands on an old cloth and pushing his goggles onto his forehead. He lent Obi-Wan an arm for support as the pair started up the lowered gangway into the ship. “How’s the leg?”

“It’s been better,” Obi-Wan said, wincing as he made his way up the incline, “but the healers at the Jedi Temple will set it right when I return home.” Inside the ship the small mess table that was normally folded against the wall was down, and Anakin hastily cleared away several dishes to make room as Obi-Wan slid onto the bench across from the technical station. 

The Jedi couldn’t help but notice the jacket that hung on the corner of the technical station’s seat. It was very petite with the symbol of the Rogues and a commander’s insignia sewn into the shoulder, but he turned his attention back to Anakin as the young man sat down across from him.

“When are you going back to Coruscant?” Anakin asked as he handed Obi-Wan a cup of cool water.

“I’ve made arrangements to be on a transport first thing tomorrow,” Obi-Wan took a sip from his drink as Anakin sat down across from him. 

“Then you’ve come to say goodbye?” Anakin asked cautiously. Obi-Wan studied the young man’s face carefully. 

“Perhaps,” he said opaquely. 

“Perhaps?” Anakin asked, raising his eyebrows. “What is that supposed to mean?” Obi-Wan leaned on the table, cupping his drink in his hands and staring down into the clear liquid.

“Anakin, you are a young man of many talents. You are an exceptional pilot and a clever tactician. You have proven your bravery many times over these last few days. And you have now saved my life on at least two occasions,” Obi-Wan said. “In the wake of all that has happened, I imagine you feel your whole future has been cast into doubt, the course of your life upset. But I can offer you a new path.”

“What are you saying?” the young man asked, confused. Obi-Wan paused and took a deep breath. He was uncertain how Anakin would react to what he was about to say. 

“I have spoken with the Jedi Council. They have granted me permission to train you.” The boy stared at him, slack-jawed. 

“Train me?” he said at last, his voice pitched with doubt. “As a Jedi?” 

“Yes.”

“But...I’m too old,” Anakin said haltingly, shaking his head. “Jedi begin to train as small children.”

“Usually, but the Jedi Council has made an exception for you.” Obi-Wan explained. Master Windu’s words still echoed in his mind.  _ If we do not teach him, there is a chance someone else will.  _ After Obi-Wan’s encounter with Darth Maul, the Council had decided that was not a risk worth taking. 

“I can teach you the ways of the Force, but the life of a Jedi is not easy. It requires discipline and sacrifice.” Obi-Wan’s eyes darted back to the jacket at the technical station and lingered there long enough for Anakin to turn and see what the Jedi was looking at. When he turned back, Obi-Wan could see a hint of color in the boy’s cheeks. “A Jedi may have no commitment apart from the Order.” Anakin didn’t say anything, but nodded, slowly, his eyes fixed on some invisible point on the table. 

“I’ve arranged to leave on a transport to Coruscant tomorrow at oh-eight-hundred from the main landing field. There’s a seat on it for you, if you want it.” Obi-Wan leaned on the table to stand up. “The choice is yours.”

*******

Padme walked the halls of the Royal Palace of Alderaan, weaving among crowds of jubilant Alderaanians. Their happiness reflected her own. For the first time in years she dared to allow herself to think about the future, and it looked bright. She could finish her studies, which had been interrupted by the war, and refocus her energy on the rebuilding of Alderaan. Anakin was talking about staying too. They could have a chance at a normal life, a peaceful life, the kind she had given up any hope of when the war began. 

When she reached the doors of Breha’s chambers, she flashed her credentials to the guards and was ushered in. Breha stood behind her desk with a small gaggle of aides hovering nearby. The mood in this room was decidedly different than the one outside. Padme cleared her throat and Breha looked up, dismissing her aides with a wave.

“You wanted to see me?” Padme asked as the room cleared.

“I’ve just spoken with Salma,” Breha said. Padme heard the tension in her friend’s voice. Her relationship with her sister Salma, the rightful but exiled queen of Alderaan, had been tense over the last few years. Breha took a seat at her desk and gestured for Padme to sit down as well. “She’s tendered her resignation to the Senate and she’ll be returning to Alderaan within the week for her formal coronation.” 

“And you’ll be appointed to take her place?” Padme asked as she sat in one of the chairs surrounding the desk. 

“No, not me,” Breha said, shaking her head. “You.” Padme stared at Breha across the desk. 

“What?” she asked, leaning in towards the desk. Breha had to be mistaken. “I can’t go to Coruscant. Not now. I’m needed here.”

“The situation there is worse than we realized. The military’s influence over the Senate grows everyday. General Palpatine is using what happened at Geonosis to whip up fear, and it’s working. They’ve just voted him additional powers, he’s quickly becoming the de facto leader of the Republic.”

“And what about Alderaan? What about our victory?” Padme asked, her voice raising. 

“It’s not enough,” Breha said. 

“Maul is dead, Tarkin is a prisoner, what more do they want?”

“People are scared. Grievous escaped, as did Gunray, not to mention the Separatists clones.” Breha slumped back in her chair and sighed heavily. “This war is far from over. One victory, however decisive, isn’t going to change things in the Senate.”

“But your sister thinks I can?” Padme asked, incredulous.

“She knows you understand the war, that you’ve lived it for three years. No one else in the Senate can claim that kind of experience,” Breha said, leaning forward again. “We need someone who isn’t paralysed by fear, someone with the courage to stand up to General Palpatine.”

“But I’d only be one voice among thousands. I don’t see how it will make any difference,” Padme said, her frustration rising. She could already the future she had been foolish enough to hope for slipping away. A pinging sound came in over the desk comm and Breha punched a button. “Yes, what is it?”

“Princess, Commander Baden wishes to speak with you,” a man’s voice said through the comm.

“I’ll be there in a moment,” Breha said. She turned her eyes back to Padme. “Take the seat. If you challenge Palpatine, others will follow,” she said, standing. Padme stood too and followed the princess to the door. Before opening the door, Breha turned and put a hand on Padme’s shoulder. “I know it isn’t what you’d hoped for, but Alderaan still needs you.” 

“You can count on me, as always,” Padme said, not quite meeting her friend’s eyes. Breha nodded and opened the door. As they left the office Breha headed down one end of the hall, flanked by guards. Padme turned and headed in the opposite direction, toward the sounds of celebration on the terrace. She needed a drink.

*******

After Obi-Wan left, Anakin finished his drink of water and made his way to the cockpit. He’d always found it easiest to think there. As he settled into the pilot’s seat his mind swirled with possibilities. He could see himself wielding a lightsaber, commanding the Force, a renowned knight of the Republic. But then an image of Padme would burst into his mind. He knew what becoming a Jedi would mean for them, for the future they had just begun to plan. 

And yet, in his dream the night before, his mother’s directions had been so clear. She wanted him to follow the Jedi. It was only a dream, but her presence had felt so real, and after Obi-Wan’s visit her words seemed prophetic. A path to learning the ways of the Force was open to him at last. He wanted to walk down it, but he was afraid, afraid of what he would have to give up. His thoughts drifted to memories of his family. His mother, his father, Owen. They’d all abandoned him, in one way or another.  Would Padme be any different? Afterall, she’d already left him once.

He heard footsteps on the gangway. As if summoned by his thoughts Padme appeared in the doorway of the cockpit, clutching a half-empty bottle of Toniray wine. She slumped down in the co-pilot’s seat, looking defeated, and passed the bottle over to him without a word. 

“How was your meeting?” he asked, taking a sip of the wine she’d offered him. She didn’t answer right away and she kept her eyes down. Anakin felt a cold pit forming in his stomach. “What happened?”

“The Queen wants me to finish her term in the Senate,” she said, still not meeting his gaze. He looked up sharply. He hadn’t expected this. 

“Are you going to do it?” he asked, setting the bottle of wine down next to him as he leaned forward. She didn’t answer, but she finally looked him in the eye and he knew. The cold feeling crept outward from his center into the rest of his body. His fists clenched involuntarily. 

“Well, as it turns out you aren’t the only one who’s been invited to Coruscant,” he said coldly. 

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Obi-Wan has offered to train me as a Jedi. I have a seat on a transport that leaves in the morning, if I want it.” Padme sat up, her eyes wide.

“But...Anakin, if you join the Order, you and I...we could never…” She didn’t finish the thought, she just looked up at him. Her expression was a mixture of hurt and fear. Her eyes pleaded with him silently, but he turned away.

“I know what it would mean,” he said. “But it’s no different than you becoming a Senator.”

“Of course it’s different!” she said forcefully. “Joining the Senate is not the same as joining the Jedi Order.”

“It’s all the same in the end, at least when it comes to us,” Anakin said, his voice rising with frustration. “You can’t have a Tatooine spice runner on your arm at Senate functions, can you?” he asked her pointedly. She started at him for a moment, her mouth half-open, looking as though she would object, but then her lips closed. There was nothing she could say, she knew it was true, they both did. Anakin shook his head. “I knew nothing had changed.”

“I won’t be in the Senate forever,” she pointed out. “It won’t always be like this.”

“But it will, don’t you see?” he entreated. “I can’t stay here. Padme, I love you, but I can’t wait for a future that isn’t going to happen. You’ll always choose your duty to Alderaan over everything else, certainly over me,” he said angrily. At his last words, Padme’s expression hardened. 

“I risked everything to help you against the Separatists,” she said stonily. Anakin glowered back at her.

“Only when it suited your own interests,” he said spitefully, and, he knew, untruthfully. As soon as the words left his mouth he knew he’d gone too far. Padme stood quickly. Her eyes bored into him, and he could sense the barely controlled rage within her. 

“If that’s what you think, then the Jedi can have you,” she said through clenched teeth. Before Anakin could even began to try and backpedal she stormed out of the cockpit. He got up to follow her but by the time he caught up with her she was already halfway down the gangway. He called out to her, but she wouldn’t even turn around. She just kept walking, disappearing into the maze of ship’s with the palace hangar, leaving Anakin behind.

*******

Anakin slept fitfully, and he was grateful when morning finally arrived. He hastily stuffed a few meager possessions into a haversack. Everything else would have to stay aboard the ship. He wouldn’t have much need of it where he was going. 

He took one last walk through the  _ Outlander _ , the ship that had been his home for most of his life. As he walked past the technical station he spotted Padme’s jacket, still hanging over the back of the seat. He picked it up and held it in his hands for a moment, then folded it and stuffed it into the top of his haversack and walked down the gangway. At the hangar entrance he found an attendant and gave him the ownership credentials for the  _ Outlander _ .

“Who is this to go to, sir?” the hangar attendant asked.

“Commander Naberrie,” Anakin said. He’d signed the ship over to her. She was the only one he would trust with the  _ Outlander. _

“Of course, sir. Any message?” Anakin paused for a moment, considering it, but then shook his head. The attendant nodded and walked off. Anakin turned and made his way to the hangar entrance. He walked a few blocks to a major thoroughfare where he hailed a hover taxi to take him to the landing field. 

Obi-Wan was waiting next to the transport, leaning on his walking stick. The Jedi watched as the hover taxi pulled up to the edge of the landing field. Anakin threw his bag over his shoulder and walked toward the transport. As he approached Obi-Wan the Jedi smiled and acknowledged him with a small nod, which Anakin returned.

“I’m glad you decided to come,” Obi-Wan said as Anakin reached the transport. “You’ve made all your arrangements?” the Jedi asked, giving Anakin a meaningful look. Anakin nodded. He suddenly felt very nervous. “Good. We’ll be departing shortly.” Anakin nodded again. 

The pilot leaned out of the ship and called to Obi-Wan, and the Jedi excused himself, leaving Anakin standing in the open field a few meters away from the ship. His eyes were drawn to movement on the dirt road that led to the landing field. A speeder was barrelling down it, leaving a trail of dust in its wake. 

The vehicle came to a skidding stop at the edge of the field and a small, dark haired figure emerged from the dust cloud, coming toward him. It was Padme. Anakin glanced over his shoulder at Obi-Wan, but the Jedi was still talking with the pilot. Anakin looked back at Padme. She was still walking towards him.

He began to move forward as well. He didn’t know why she had come. It occurred to him as they drew closer that she might not be coming with friendly intentions. Afterall, their argument the night before had not been pleasant, but as they came within a few meters of each other he could sense her anger had ebbed. They both stopped a little ways apart from each other, shifting awkwardly where they stood, neither quite sure what to say. Remembering her jacket, Anakin pulled it from his bag. 

“You left this,” he said, holding the jacket out to her. She reached out and took it. 

“Thanks,” she said, folding the jacket over her arm. Several beats of silence passed.”

“I left you the Outlander,” he said. “I figured you’d take good care of her.”

“I will,” she said, kicking at the ground with the toe of her boot. “I don’t know what I’m doing here,” she said, shaking her head, fixing her eyes on the ground. “I made my choice, and you made yours. I’m not here to ask you to stay.” She spoke with determination but Anakin heard her voice catch slightly.

“Anakin!” He turned as Obi-Wan called out to him. There was a dull roar as the transport engines started up. Obi-Wan was waving him over to the ship. He looked back at Padme, but she didn’t speak. She was staring at the transport in the distance. 

“I have to go,” he said. Her eyes shifted back to him, but she stayed silent. He started to turn away. 

“I love you,” she said suddenly, stepping forward. Anakin stopped in his tracks and looked back at her. “I know it doesn’t change anything, I don’t expect it to.” She was fidgeting nervously. “I just...I wanted you to know.” 

He didn’t say anything, he just dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around her. They held each other for a few moments, but then she pulled away. They both knew she was right. He wasn’t going to stay. He would leave and become a Jedi, and she would soon take her place in the Senate. They had each started down a different path, and neither of them was willing to turn back, whatever it cost them.

She smiled as they broke apart, but he could see her eyes were welling up. She looked down, letting out a nervous laugh and wiping at the corners of her eyes, obviously embarrassed. Anakin felt his chest tighten and his throat burn as he struggled to keep his own emotions in check. If he didn’t leave now he knew he never would. Anakin gave her a smile small, then lifted his haversack back onto his shoulder and turned, heading for the waiting transport. 

“Anakin!” He stopped on the gangway as she called out to him, turning back toward her. For a brief moment he imagined she would ask him to stay, and he would run to her, and they would take the  _ Outlander  _ and fly into the Unknown Regions and never look back. But she didn’t. “May the Force be with you,” she said. He smiled, took one last look, then turned away, following Obi-Wan onto the ship.

Anakin stood at the viewport and watched the landing field recede as they sped through the clouds and into the atmosphere. Obi-Wan came to stand beside him, and together they looked on as Alderaan grew more and more distant, until the planet was just a blue orb in the blackness of space. 

**THE END**


End file.
